It’s a bad time for gardeners. The desert wind roars over my poor plants and we’re pushing 40 degrees. I’m watering – a guilt inducing activity, despite my belief that, in terms of food production, your own garden creates the smallest environmental footprint.
All the english spinach, rocket, coriander and basil have gone to seed completely, and what’s left is chook fodder. Only one zucchini flower became a zucchini – and was eaten in the context of a completely home grown salad – success! The curious variety of beans came and went – in salads and stirfries. The tomatoes have seen armageddon and are wildly fruiting. The corn will soon be ready, and both the capsicums and eggplants are flowering.
The grape vines are almost to the top of the pergola. The potted grapevine that I brought with us from the old house and thought might be rootbound, was planted in a less than auspicious spot along the back fence, and is now fruiting!
Pressing garden tasks include building the chook tractor – as Blackie and Brownie are quickly outgrowing their temporary hutch - and picking and freezing the remaining silverbeet and chard. Really nothing much can be planted in these conditions, so the garden may be fallow for a month or so. If we can get the chook tractor started on its cycle through the garden, that will give me the impetus to ‘plan the plantings’.
