So: two weekends ago we got a record rain. Has this rain done the garden any good?
You know, I think it is rather amazing that most things really just up and grow at all. Unlike, say, a roomful of persnickety toddlers, most veggies and flowers have a wide range of what is considered acceptable to them. Nobody really whines much about their conditions. In fact, the only whiner is the gardener. And this gardener sure is whining, ruing the loss of her Brussels sprouts for the second year in a row. And the rotten root crops in the ground. Ah, the splitting cabbages!!
Well, the celery loved it. I have always grown celery but it was mostly for taste and not so much out-of-hand fresh eating. Celery is a water hog. Park it under a drippy faucet and it would be happy (or so it would appear). Otherwise, and usually for me, I get skinny stalks that are very tasty but you’d need to be a four-stomached bovid to be able to appreciate the fiber. Cooked, though, they’re fine. But now, with all this extra water? I have nice crunchy celery! One-stomach-friendly celery!
The autumn olive berries love it. Granted, these are invasive shrubby trees that I shouldn’t encourage, but they got the rain at the right time of ripening that the berries are lovely and plump. (I will post later about what I do with the things: my mom is coming up again to do a half-day harvest soon.) As far as the rest of the fruits, the grapes are kind of sad, and are taking longer to ripen than is usual. Same with the apples. I suppose this should fall under the category of “the rest of the things that hate the rain” but now is the time when I am normally buried in grape and apple harvests. So I am…appreciative. But that hammer will soon fall.
The Amanita muscaria (toadstool) mushrooms love it. Too bad we can’t eat them. We do have cepes (porcini) but those won’t pop up until it gets cooler…about Oct. 15th or later. The grass looks lovely now, too, and all the birds just love it, especially the geese.
Otherwise, extremes plainly stink. Luckily, most of the stuff in the gardens was winding down: the rain was simply the push toward the compost pile. Could’ve been snow, you know…