Ah, weeds. They can ruin a fine day in the garden.
Fortuitous weed product. One misplaced ear sprouted and one quart of popcorn was the result. You should plant popcorn annually because it pops more readily when fresh. Somehow, though, I forgot to plant it this year…and the weed gods smiled on my oversight.
For as little time as I have, weeding still remains a task of high importance. It’s funny to me, though, this one idea: my concept of “weed” is ever-changing. Sure, I always remove a dandelion when I see one, and dock , thistle and crabgrass never get a pass. But everything else? I have a sliding scale!
The one thing that holds true with me is the my very definition of weed: it’s something growing where you do not want it to grow. But this mashup of little time and littler patience with the task of weeding has been a bit of a boon for a certain kind of weed in my garden.
Volunteers, you see, have been granted stays of execution. The seedlings of plants from the year (or more) before that sprout, crazily, sometimes happily, near where their parent plant had grown.
Things are getting out of hand when I let the greenhouse paths get taken over, though. These are a cross-bred chioggia/three root Grex beet, quite sweet, so quite welcome. The jar on the right are pickled. I treat this as a perennial greenhouse crop, and pick them all summer and winter.
I have noticed, though, that certain families of plants are more prone to this willy-nilly self-seeding. Umbelliferae includes the chervil above as well as…
And also of the umbrella-flowered family, notice the cilantro in the front of this path. In the back? Carrots, another crazed umbrelled self-seeder. I had wondered years back if the presence of the path’s cilantro illustrated a case of the broken-windows theory. I think the answer is a definitive “yes.”
I guess the answer to all this is, you want more time? Well, hold off on weeding and eat the products of your weeds. Some of them, at least.