Hail storms, heat, drought. Oh yes, and I was en vacances.
No wonder this poor potager looks in a sorry state. Apart from the basil jungle. We’ll be eating pesto and tomato, mozzarella and basil salad for weeks more now.
We came back from the Queyras region of the Alps yesterday.
And glory be, it started to rain. That hid a multitude of neglectful sins.
And now, 15mm later, I am able to take stock of the crops.
Peppers and tomatoes, fine.
The peppers were hidden by a lot of foliage, so escaped the worst of the hail.
The tomato skins are pitted, but edible. Well, they’ll do for tonight’s lentil lasagne.
But the courgettes. Which came first? The mildew or the hail damage. I set to with secateurs and hacked back a lot of the foliage. And found this hilariously large one hidden underneath.
The flesh is probably inedible, but I might take the skin off with a veggie peeler and stir fry it with garlic, a pinch of chilli flakes and lots of marjoram.
I seem to lack the energy to do more than pluck at the tomatoes and think about harvesting the Warrigal greens. They are doing well as I gave them a serious soaking just before I left.
But I need to get chipping and cover these beds with lots of material this autumn. I need to build up all the beds now that the compost and branches have had their first season settling down.
And the flowers? Some of the dahlias are in there somewhere. But the variety is paltry.
I was lying in the tent one afternoon (after a 20km hike) and what do you do if you are too tired to read, and there is no signal for your phone?
You scroll back through your picture library and delete pics.
I was going back to 2019 and just ogling at the abundance of flowers I had for cutting. The potager may have been a dog’s breakfast of weeds and mess. But, my, there was colour.
Same time last year.
I must plant more zinnias next year.
And accept that the crocosmias thrive in the ground, and definitely not in pots.
And for those of you who are Creature Curious.
She survived nine days of neglect.
Better than my courgettes.