10 Things I’m Thankful for
Inside: A short and sweet list of a few things I’m thankful for.
Every Thanksgiving Day I like to pause and reflect on what I’m thankful for. What follows is a short list, in no particular order and certainly not exhaustive by any means. More what’s on my mind at the moment, whether this year or the season of life I find myself in. So without further ado. . .
10 Things I’m Thankful for
- I’m thankful I live in a safe and peaceful corner of the world. I love living in rural America, in the Midwest, on a farm in Missouri. There’s no place I’d rather be.
- I’m thankful for the people God has placed in my life. People who love me despite my bad moods, mistakes, and shortcomings. How blessed I am to be loved by some amazing people–my family and friends! (You know who you are!)
- I’m thankful for a beautiful autumn this year. Wasn’t it lovely? One of the best I’ve seen in some time.
- I’m thankful for a family without drama and feuding. Interesting, I got into a conversation with a cashier I know at Walmart who is so used to seeing Mom and me together (Mom’s absent this week, visiting my brother and his family for Thanksgiving), and somehow in the course of our short discussion in the checkout lane, we ended up on this point–how thankful we are to have a family who loves each other and gets along, because there are plenty who don’t.
- I’m thankful for work I love to do, whether editing books or writing or taking pictures for posts. (Hopefully I’m getting better.)
- I’m thankful for a warm place to get out the cold and harsh weather with electricity and running water. Many people don’t have the basics.
- I’m thankful for the critters in my life: the chickens up at the farm, the horses in the pasture outside my back door, Honey (Mom’s dog) and even the possum under my house. And, of course, the kitties who have my heart–Winston and Clarence.
- I’m thankful for my writing critique group, writing friends, both near and scattered around this country (and a few abroad). So good to have folks you can talk shop with and who understand the importance of a comma.
- I’m thankful for my health. While that might sound cliche, when you’re a woman in her fifties, you realize that you have to try harder to take better care of yourself–both physically and emotionally. I’ve lost 20 pounds this year by paying attention to what I eat and getting daily exercise. And I feel better for it.
- I’m thankful that I am loved by the Creator of the Universe. More than I can ever know. How blessed to be a child of God!
As I’m ending this post, more things to be thankful for flood my mind. That’s the wonderful thing about gratitude. The more I practice it, the more I realize how crazy blessed I truly am!
Happy Thanksgiving, Friends!
What are you thankful for? Tell us about it in the comments.
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End of Garden Season Notes
Inside: With an early snow on the ground, now is a good time to evaluate which plants worked and which ones didn’t. Highlights of my end of garden season notes follow.
Snow on the ground draws the garden season to a close. (As if frost didn’t have a say in the matter already.) Not exactly a banner year this time around, but rather than go through all my various beds, plots, and containers like I did in 2017, I’d rather focus on some of the highlights, along with what didn’t work well.
Most Notable
As mentioned in my previous post about results of the late summer garden, zinnias were the stars this year. Drought didn’t bother them, nor did heat or a little neglect here and there. They looked vibrant and full and lovely, despite the weather.
Succulents performed well, as they normally do in my containers, as do sedums. These are plants that require little work yet add variety and texture to the garden.
For the second year in a row I planted extra red cabbage into containers with the sole purpose of adding a pop of colorful foliage among my flowers. And it worked perfectly–again. I love this tip for all the above reasons, but also because these plants can be bought cheaply in the spring.
Coleus was as lovely as usual, and the begonias in August were a pure delight, as Mom always says about begonias.
Veggies did okay, with enough peppers and tomatoes to keep us in fresh eating. I enjoyed several small watermelons, and enough cukes to make a batch of curry pickles.
Epic Fails
In my final late summer garden post, I confessed my epic fails with squash bugs eating my winter squash and pumpkins and even my cucumbers. Bunnies got my cabbage and cauliflower, not once, but twice. (At least I think the rabbits came back to the garden buffet table and ate my second round of plants.)
And remember those beautiful planters we put together back in May? Turns out that some plants can be bullies. Regular container hogs. The innocent-looking white euphorbia seemed to be on a mission to take over the container, crowding out the yellow bidens, and the delicate salmon-colored diascia never had a chance. Beautiful start, poor finish. The marigolds and purple calibrachoa got along okay, but the calibrachoa seemed to fizzle in the weather. Those colorful blooms didn’t last much past spring, and the foliage suffered along until frost.
Generally speaking, the containers around the steps just didn’t have that vibrant color that is typical of most summers. And some flowers put on an early show in the spring and then stopped blooming altogether. Not the best year for containers, though I watered quite often. Nothing beats a rain shower for perking up a plant! Well, provided we don’t get too much rain, anyway.
The Stump Garden 2018
Seemed like our stump garden had a dark and brooding summer. As with the previous year, the ornamental sweet potatoes took over as the season progressed, but this time around the bronze vine gave the stump a darker appearance and overpowered the trailing vinca. The silver mound, creeping jenny, and sedums held their own as we moved through the summer, but the celosia turned into a dud. What turned out to be a nice surprise? Both the Mexican petunias and the Mexican firebush. The petunias were a nice splash of color on the road side of the stump, and the firebush turned into a bright red as we approached fall. It will be interesting to see what comes back next spring.
Gardening Hindsight
frost.
Can you say fertilizer? I shouldn’t have relied so much on the potting soil with fertilizer–for a couple of reasons. For some flowers, after that initial bloom, they never came back. The foliage continued to grow, but no flowers. My guess is too much nitrogen. I should have used some of my homemade organic fertilizers or compost. The homemade versions take a little while longer to see the boost, but they’re effective in the long run. (And cheap, too.)
For the container hogs, I could have dug the other flowers out and simply put them in their own pot to give them a chance. Also, I could have tried a technique that I noticed in Mom’s containers this year. She groups pots so close together and raises some pots higher than others so that she creates a type of fountain of flowers, and it appears to be one large container because the foliage covers the pots. So you get the same effect but the plants stay in their own container.
Whether the weather can be blamed or not? Well, some of the fault lies with the early heat and lack of rain. But, truth be told, I’m pointing the finger at me, too. Gardens need time and attention. And nurturing. Yes, nurturing. I could have spent more time giving my garden some TLC.
So what about next year? I’ll keep in mind the lessons I learned from 2018–and stop to smell the flowers along the way.
How did your garden grow? Tell us about it in the comments.
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Results of my Late Summer Garden
Inside: Gardening is a grand experiment of weather, plant hardiness, good soil, and time. Sometimes these factors work together. Sometimes they don’t. Read on for results of my late summer garden.
I had wanted to boast about my late summer garden. I’d envisioned a couple of rows of beautiful red and green cabbages, and even some snow-white cauliflower heads. In my mind’s eye I saw large golden tubers–defying all expectation of the growing season. I pictured a dozen quarts of pickles, some for gift-giving from the bountiful harvest of cucumbers I planted late. Melons and winter squash and pumpkins, too–I could hardly wait! And tomatoes? Of course, tomatoes! More than I could ever use! I’d be looking for people to take my abundant haul.
A girl can dream, can’t she?
The late summer garden was . . . disappointing. A perfect storm of things gone wrong. Soil not properly prepared in some beds. Hungry varmints. Too early frost–didn’t the weather man know I needed good weather to prove my point about what a great idea late summer gardens are? Too little time–both in growing days and my own time to work in the garden. Add in an odd growing season, too. Unseasonably cold beginning. Quick warm up turned unbearably hot quite rapidly. And so very little rain. Water from the well just doesn’t bring out the best in plants like a good, solid rain shower. Those came too late. Plants and trees and bushes didn’t get that vibrant green until late September. By that time most of us were already thinking of autumn.
So how did my plants fare?
Fair.
What Didn’t Work
To begin with, I’d nurtured a bunch of cabbage and cauliflower seedlings under a grow light before bringing them outside to acclimate them to the hot temps. They were coming along nicely, and soon it was time to plant them into the cole crop bed. They thrived there–for a day and a half. On the second morning I went out to check them, and every last one was gone. No trace of anything. (Clarence, my cat, has been pretty mum about the whole thing, so I have no idea what happened.) Suffice it to say, no red or green globes of fall goodness. No snow-white heads of cauliflower.
My winter squash and pumpkins were a no-go. Planted in hay bales, every squash seedling died. The pumpkins also got their start in a hay bale, and they took off, growing rapidly. I had a couple of baby pumpkins the size of large marbles, and then it happened–the arrival of the squash bugs. Bye-bye pumpkins.
Watermelon vines thrived as well. But, to be honest, they flowed into a patch of already existing vines, so I’m not sure if the late summer plants produced any fruit or not.
What Worked–Sort of . . .
As mentioned in the last post, I did get some sweet potatoes from the slips I planted late. Nothing to write home about, but at least I got something. The picture shows the potatoes from the mound that produced the most.
And remember that cute cuke pic from the last late summer post? About a week after that was taken, as the cucumbers were multiplying in my refrigerator’s vegetable crisper, I noticed some of the leaves on the plants started turning yellow. Within two weeks my vines were nearly dead. But at least I got a batch of curry pickles made.
The tomatoes grew rapidly in their late summer home. The vines spread all over the place, quickly moving past the cage that surrounded them–as I expected. The problem was that I didn’t stake them and prune them to keep them somewhat in their confines. (I’ve been around the garden patch long enough to know that cages don’t contain much when it comes to tomatoes, but I still find myself using them, anyway. Go figure.)
So with beautiful, lovely, sprawling vines, what went wrong? Jack Frost made an earlier than expected appearance. (I should mention frost fell within the “average first frost” dates, but so often it doesn’t show up until the final week in October. By this time I had one ripening tomato (pictured left) and a handful of green ones large enough to pick and put on my window sill.
That was the extent of the veggie harvest from my late summer garden. Thankfully I planted some tomatoes, watermelon, peppers, and herbs back in May! (More on that in the next post.)
Flower Power?
Remember those marauding raccoons upending my just-planted wildflower seeds? How I had to guess at what was growing in the pots? Well, I was right about the forget-me-nots. They did finally bloom with a few pretty sprigs of dainty blue flowers. But not long after, something got to them, and the flowers were gone.
No other wildflowers bloomed. A few zinnias popped up in the pots, and I’m not quite sure how that happened. As a matter of fact, everything was coming up zinnias. Everywhere I looked these latecomers were not only surviving, but they were thriving. I had three beds of them, ranging in color from pink to peach to mauve to maroon. (My descriptions of the colors aren’t plant breed descriptions, but how I saw them.) Most of these came from seed I saved from hybrids, so they weren’t true to type. But they were lovely. A sight to behold. Beauty in the midst of so many disappointing plants this year. . .
Verdict on the Late Summer Garden
If you’ve followed this garden saga, you might be wondering, is it worth planting a late summer garden? In many years, yes. This year, not so much. Had my time not been a factor, I would have done a few things differently. For one, I could have pruned and staked those tomatoes so that growth would have been directed to developing tomatoes instead of countless branches. Beds for the sweet potatoes could have been better prepared. I could have properly fertilized my plants to make them more resistant to insects and weather challenges, plus speeding along growth. I could have protected my cabbage and cauliflower plants from whatever ravaged them–bunny or possum.
Will I try again next year? Maybe. I’m certainly not abandoning the idea. I like a good garden challenge. But let’s get through fall and winter first, shall we?
How did your garden do this year? Tell us about it in the comments.
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How to Harvest Sweet Potatoes
Inside: Long about the middle of fall, the time comes to dig up buried treasure. I’m talking about harvesting sweet potatoes, of course! Read on to learn how.
Sweet Potatoes: The Year in Review
I’m going to level with you. Mine didn’t do so well this year. Planted late as part of the late summer garden experiment, they didn’t get the benefit of a lengthy summer. Nor did their home in front of a fallen log give them an ideal amount of sun. And, frankly, the soil wasn’t prepared in advance to the extent I would have liked.
Still, I had some–a total of four pounds from about six plants, and for that I’m thankful. And all from the slips that came from that original sprouting sweet potato Emily gave me back in the spring.
So How Do You Harvest Those Spuds?
Unlike white potatoes which signal their readiness to be harvested by the foliage turning yellow, sweet potatoes keep growing as long as the weather is warm. For our neck of the woods, gardeners generally let frost dictate harvesting sweet potatoes. (As it already has this year.)
It’s best to choose a cloudy day before frost to dig them up. Be careful when wielding your shovel! I find it works best to lightly tug on the vines to see if the potatoes start lifting out of the ground. Gently brush away some of the dirt–that way you can get some idea of where they are in the ground. Take your shovel and move it back eight to twelve inches out from the potatoes and start digging with plenty of distance between you and the spuds to avoid cutting any of them.
Once they’re dug up, let them lie on the ground for a few hours, but not overnight–so the ancient gardening wisdom goes. (Actually, I have left mine out overnight before, and no sweet potatoes were harmed in the process, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.) Ideally it’s good to let them cure for ten to fourteen days in a warm, dark, dry place before storing away in boxes. . .
If frost does come before you have a chance to harvest, the next morning after the frost, cut the vines at the soil level, which should buy you a couple of days before you need to dig them up.
Sweet potatoes aren’t difficult to grow or harvest, and most of the time your plants will yield a decent amount of potatoes. In all of my years growing them, I’ve gotten yields anywhere from one to five pounds or more per plant. On average, about two to three pounds each slip. Ideally, they’ll do so much better if you get those slips in the ground as soon as the soil remains consistently warm.
And that’s precisely what I’m going to do–next year. Then maybe I can regain my reputation as sweet potato whisperer!
Did you grow sweet potatoes this year? Tell us about it in the comments.
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Turn Sprouted Sweet Potatoes into Plants
Planting the Late Summer Garden
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