Pirate Treasure: Purple & Gold Potatoes (and a few onions)

My little band of pirates dug up some booty last week.

Well, I did most of the digging, and they picked out the treasures.

We had purple potatoes, of 2 varieties, and some Yukon Gold.

 

Digging up potatoes is one of the most kid-friendly garden chores.

We all love it. You get to play in the dirt!

And there's always the suprise of what you will find when you bring that shovel-full of dirt up.

Big or small, a lot or just a few; that unassuming patch of dirt could be hiding just about anything!

Those big purple beauties right on top were exciting to find.

Their bright skin just popped out at us from the dark dirt.

I planted 6 hills of Yukon Gold, and 3 of purples.

We got many more purples than golds.

In fact, we kept finding them way over in Gold territory.

Trespassers, that's what they were.

Don't worry, we snapped them right up and put them where they belonged--in the basket with the rest of the treasure.

 

 A couple of the pirates decided shoes were optional.

Captain Mama decided a bath was not optional.

 

Oh, the fun to be had in the potato patch!

We got done just as it started to rain.

Perfect timing.

 

I just found out from my dad, the master potato farmer (1200 hills this year!), that potatoes put on their most growth in the last 2-3 weeks before frost.

Oops. That could be why we mostly got small ones!

Good to know for next year!

 

The onions should at least get a mention, I suppose.

Anyone have tips on growing big onions?

Ours were all pretty small, which makes them a bit annoying to use, quite honestly.

You have to peel 4 or 5 to equal one regular-sized store bought.

 

Plus, they're not nearly as fun to harvest, since they're all just right there in plain view.

I'm afraid potatoes have spoiled us for above-ground harvesting for awhile.



The Bane

We moved to Washington state from Missouri.

And Missouri had weeds. Let me be clear on that point.

Oh yes, Missouri had weeds.

I'm not trying to sound snooty in a "my-weeds-were-better-than-your-weeds" kind of way.

But really.

Thistles?

Ug! Enough!

At least the Missouri weeds didn't fight back!

 

A healthy crop of thistles.

Not the only one in my yard.

And not the first time this area has received vigorous weeding.

Sigh.

 

There's no such thing as bare-handed weeding any more.

I have to have gardening gloves on and for the thistles, leather gloves over my gardening gloves, if I don't want to end up with prickles in all my fingers.

Not to mention a shovel, for their super long roots.

 

Remember in the Bible, when Adam and Eve get kicked out of the Garden of Eden?

Adam is told that the ground will be cursed...with thorns and thistles. (Genesis 3:17-18)

Hah! Biblical proof that these are a curse!

 

Actually, I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse.

 

So what to do?

I haven't gone with Roundup yet, but I have to tell you, I'm perilously close.

As it is, I step on them every time I go by, in hopes of beating them down little by little.

They seem to thrive on such treatment.

 

I think maybe I need a goat.

 

Carrots, carrots, carrots

We decided to process the carrots a few weeks earlier this year.

The kiddos were more than happy to pull up every single one they could find.

They were also happy to eat all the ones that were very small and too hard to peel.

With or without washing first.

A little vitamin D(irt) never hurt anyone, right?

 

For the 2x5 garden space dedicated to them, I thought this was a respectable showing.

 

My oldest insisted on running the food processor.

He did an excellent job, once I got it all set up for him.

 

Little sister was our expert carrot scooper.

(After blanching for 3 minutes, I dumped them in cold water to cool them quicker.)

Then we put them in freezer bags.

Kudos to this little man for not choking on the carrot given to him.

It was a team effort, I tell you.

 

7 quart bags, but I'm claiming 6 for the official count.

We did 2 half full, to give us some options later.

Not bad.

I want to do about twice as much next year.



August Bloom Day

Here in Eastern Washington, we are right in the middle of the annual August heat wave.

Last year we had 6 straight weeks of 90 degree weather with clear skies.

This year it has rained once, and the rest of the time we're back at 90.

 

The good thing about the heat, other than ripening my tomatoes, is that I can tell very easily where I need to fill spots in my garden. For instance, my entire back flowerbed is dormant right now, except for the portulaca I planted as filler. Note to self: plant something with longevity in the back bed!

 

So what loves the heat?

 

Petunias, bless 'em.

As long as I keep them watered, they just bloom their little hearts out.

 

This 'Burgundy Iceberg' rose was just planted this year.

It has bloomed non-stop since I put it in the ground.

I can't remember what this little pin-cushiony flower is in front (lost the tag) but it echoes the rose just beautifully.

Echinacea, of course.

 

 

The salvia isn't bothered by the temperature, either.

 

 And let's not forget the dog fennel (also called Mayweed chamomile, or stinking Mayweed.)

It smells awful up close, but it's pretty!

 

It's also good for hiding unsightly patches of bare ground awaiting grass seed, once it gets cooler. Well, sort of hiding it.

 

Happy Bloom Day!
To see other gardens from around the world, go to May Dreams Gardens and check out the links!

Going Bushy

From eight years old on, I grew up in Alaska.

We first moved to Akiachak, a tiny Yupik Eskimo village along the Kuskokwim River.

The heart of the Alaskan Bush District.

 

Like many places, I suppose, Alaska has its share of local terms.

For example: "Outside," meaning "anywhere out of state," as in "We're going Outside for vacation this year." Yes.

  Or "dividend check" meaning "Free money! WAHOO!"

 

Living in the 'Chak, as we called it, we became familiar with another unique Alaskan term:

"Going Bushy."

This did not refer to an abundance of facial hair, though it was the one and only time I ever remember my dad growing a beard.

Rather, it was used to describe a person who had gone completely crazy. It was understood as a given that living out in the Bush had in some way led to their unhinged mental state. 

 

This lavender has definitely gone Bushy.

 

In the 2 years we lived there, there were 2 such instances of the dreaded disease.

The principal of a neighboring village went Bushy, and proceeded to lock himself in the mailroom. He refused to come out, or let anyone in to get their mail. Finally (several days later!) he had to be forcibly removed by the State Troopers.

 

Then, just days after we had moved a young man from our village went Bushy. He hid in the fireweed right next to where we had lived and started taking shots at the people going by on the boardwalk.

State Troopers were once again called in to handle it. 

[Does this make anyone want to be an Alaska State Trooper someday?]

 

What I'm saying is: Going Bushy was not pretty.

It was not a desirable state.

It usually took several people to contain the situation.

 

Shasta daisies, though in a bush-like state, are too pretty to be Bushy.

 

So when I say that something in my garden has gone Bushy, I don't mean, "there's a few extra shoots here and there, tra la la, isn't everything grand?"

What I mean is, this plant has a crazed gleam in its eye and has started taking down the neighbors.

It's about time to call in some reinforcements.

Just so you know.

 

Exhibit A: the oregano crossed over into Bushy weeks ago.

The rosemary hasn't been seen since.

Vegetable Update

The soil in the newer part of the garden wasn't the best for growing vegetables, as it turns out. And since I don't often think about fertilizing (usually I mix in a load of compost in the spring and call it good), I was not fast enough on the uptake to help these poor plants along.

 

 The zucchini has yet to flower.

It looks kind of lonely in that big old space I allotted for it.

Cucumbers near by are just barely starting to produce.

 



Broccoli still big and bushy.

I'm a bit disillusioned with broccoli, ever since I learned you're supposed to soak it in a saltwater brine for 30 minutes after harvesting, to kill off the bugs.

So...that means we're eating dead bugs now?

Yum. I guess.

The broccoli doesn't mind my discontent, however.

It just keeps right on producing side shoots.

The tomato plants are struggling along.

We've gotten a handful of very small tomatoes.

There will probably be several more handfuls by frost.

Nothing like 9 plants should be producing, though.

 

I didn't take pictures of the beans, but they are still going strong.

Tomatillo plant is covered with little fruit, but I do mean little.

Nothing remotely close to picking yet.

Carrots ready to harvest.

Potatoes and onions will be ready soon, as the tops are all dying off.

 

Not as much as we had hoped, but we're still getting some here and there.

Yes, those are strawberries on the right-hand side!

Which reminds me, I need to put in a berry patch update...

 

A Study in Contrasts: Garden Appreciation Society

I never would have thought to use hosta leaves in a bouquet until I saw Erin do it for the Garden Appreciation Society.

Once I decided to use them, then I started seeing the other leaves around that were green and white, which led to the euonymous.

The first round of Shasta 'Becky' daisies is about done, so I gleaned a handful from there. Then since we had large and small leaves, I thought it would be fun to have large and small daisies as well.

The dog fennel (also called Mayweed chamomile) is blooming like crazy along our east side, where we need to put grass in this fall.

Hey, nothing like using the weeds--um, wildflowers at our disposal! 

The roses were to add a little sparkle and color.

 

As a sidenote, I just planted the Burgundy Iceberg Rose this year, and I love it!

The deep purple and red tones are gorgeous next to the other plants in my front flowerbed.

 

Top View

This is not a bouquet for sniffing.

Dog fennel is called that for a reason! It stinks!

Fortunately, you have to get up close to really smell it; otherwise, I wouldn't have brought it in the house!