The news from When Pigs Fly Farm

Family business took me away from Bermtopia for a few days last week, and boy, did I miss The Farm. So many things happened while I was gone!

Our first sunflower bloomed! And I had to learn about it on Facebook. Sigh.

The temperatures finally hit the 90s --  and stuck around for more than 24 hours -- pretty much for the first time this summer. What a difference a few degrees make. Snowberry has started to produce more than one cherry tomato at a time (thank you very much), Cherokee Purple is coloring up nicely as are Farmer Jim's Roma tomatoes.

Mr. Stripey is another story. He is not budging out of the green department. The little turd.

Remember Poor Pitiful Pearl, my transplanted eggplant? She lives to fight another day! Pearl was in the process of producing two tiny eggplants when I left Bermtopia last Sunday, so imagine my surprise to find one had completely vanished and the other laying on the ground, sadly amputated from the Mother Ship. Their removal had been surgical.

I suspect fowl play. (Sorry. I just couldn't help myself.)








Finally, Farmer Jim made Kosher dills while I was gone! The ingredients? Why, When Pigs Fly Farm cukes, dill and garlic, of course.

Is this not truly A Work of Art?














And leave it to Farmer Jim. I'm pretty sure he's the only pickle maker in Bermtopia who has his pickles curing on his patio.

It's hard to believe we're marching, lock-stepped, toward September 1 this week. There's still so much to do -- and grow -- at When Pigs Fly Farm. Nevertheless, life is good at The Farm.

Life is good.

The news from When Pigs Fly Farm

Cherokee Purple

Yes. The Wonderfully Patient Spouse and I took a short vacation last weekend. And yes, Mr. and Mrs. Farmer Jim watered admirably while we were gone.

I left behind tomato plants mad with blossoms. I returned to a three plants full of fruit. Everywhere. And then some.

Snowberry

We're talking some potentially serious tomatoes here. Between Farmer Jim and myself, if even a small percentage of these tomatoes ripen, we will have tomatoes up the yahoo for at least infinity. I think we will be able to feed all of Bermtopia.






It is truly amazing -- and one of the most rewarding things about gardening -- and no doubt a tribute to some keen farming on FJ's part and myself -- that you can go from the When Pigs Fly Plastic Bag Farm to this

in a relatively few short weeks. Actually, it's probably just a luckily serendipitous combination of water, fish fertilizer and sunlight, but I won't tell Farmer Jim if you don't.

Here are a couple more highlights: 

Peppers comin' on!








Farmer Jim's pickling cukes are starting to climb.











Japanese eggplant, just now blossoming -- you coy thing, you.

And corn. Well, my golly sakes! Corn does grow as high as an elephant's eye. (Well, ok, maybe Farmer Jim's eye. Which is close to an elephant. No, stop. What I mean is, Farmer Jim isn't an elephant, but he is Rather Tall. Never mind. You know what I mean.)








And the lowlights? It really wouldn't be When Pigs Fly Farm without them, would it?

Newly planted carrots: Lame. Take a lesson from your humble, but overachieving rock star cousin, the radish. Cowboy up and grow a little, would you?




Newly planted romaine lettuce: Complete fail. Time for arugula.

And, finally, CHECK OUT WPFF Composting Incorporated! Farmer Jim whipped up this little number in his spare time last week. The lid weighs at least 2,000 pounds -- obviously intended to deter, frustrate and otherwise flummox any and all Composting Varmints.

You know who you are.
  
Don't even think about crossing Farmer Jim.

Or he will cut you.

Not.