On frost, or, a season’s rushed end

Everyone likes ladders at this house

Nothing concentrates the gardener’s energies like the first frost of fall.  Or I should say, nothing concentrates the otherwise season-denying gardener’s mind like the evidence of first frost!  Egads, it got down to 30* on Friday night.  (And yes, that’s early, by about 2 weeks, darnitall…)

So Saturday was spent running around like the proverbial headless chicken.  We erected the frame for the new greenhouse, I purchased the wood for the base and end walls, and I harvested the cabbage and the rest of the drying beans and winter squash.  I also planted garlic (inside greenhouse and not) and mulitplier onions inside the greenhouse.  And, well, I finally yanked out the very last of the big tomatoes out of the old greenhouse.  Sigh.  No more tomatoes.

The bell peppers, though, have been left in place in there.  They are huge, and reflect their tropical origins in their very size:  they have no signs of stopping growth, being now waist-high and bloom-covered.  I expect they’ll only get another month or so of temperatures to their liking before they, too, shall be composted.  Interesting thing to note, though:  they really did not like the high summer temperatures (110*) and stopped flowering.  I almost yanked them out.

Yay!  It’s up!

All denial aside, it has been a great garden year for us, despite the record rains and now early frost.  Our larder is filling, the greenhouses are filling, and we are in great shape for the cold months ahead.

Ah.  Such a rush of activity.  And I still haven’t touched the apples or the grapes…