My cover crop of three-year-old blackeye pea seed is pea-ing. (Fruiting? Seeding?) That wasn't supposed to happen--I expected them to die from drought--but I'll live with it. And eat the peas.
This broccoli which any sane gardener would have pulled up and composted months ago is still making tiny heads. I feel bad, thwarting its attempt to reproduce itself, but I still cut a dozen of them for my salad. If the plants stay healthy, I think I'll just leave them in the ground and see if they produce again next spring. I've had that happen before and I made a lovely stir-fry--then a herd of cows came through and ate the plants to the ground.
The rest of my story is all complaints. I planted a lot more cucumbers than I needed--I'm harvesting about one per day and each one would feed a family of four for a week. (I think they call that hyperbole, but it exactly expresses my attitude.) And this thing here:
Horseradish.
A pest that doesn't belong in a garden. We planted it ten years ago and it still comes back every year, every where. I let this one grow, hoping it will eventually morph into that white stuff that comes in squeeze packets. Hopeless?
One weird thing you'll learn from growing a garden is how astonishingly mobile plants can be. Only a non-gardener would think that a plant stayed where you put it, but I did. I've got sunflowers laying down on cucumbers, cantaloupe climbing up sunflower stalks, and tomatoes in the bean patch. And just where does this squash think it's going?
Best answer wins a prize! And the prize is two, not one, but two, foot-long, home grown, cucumbers!
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