Garden -- Late June
Jun. 24th, 2008 07:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leahbobetI probably should have done an update here weeks ago, but hey.
Here is the progress on the garden, Late June.
The spindly beans that were planted in the first batch died afiery windy death pretty early on: they didn't have enough mass to withstand thunderstorm-level winds. These guys, however, do, and they leaf out happily in the face of gale-force winds.
This one pea plant was transplanted into the window box as an experiment. It's doing better than its friends, below, but still needs the improvised support of an old knitting needle.
We are the peas and radishes. The peas are not looking so great and need to be moved to somewhere with less direct sun, but the radishes are happy and glorious.
The sage, twined up the pigeon netting. The stake it used to climb is now lonely, and it sobs.
The chilies, in increasing order of closeness and thus blurriness (never said I was a photographer). If you look at the last two, you can see the little white flowers on them that will become red chilies.
The lone cucumber, at a supremely odd angle.
Lettuces and spinach. I suspect it's going to take another deep container bed and some compost to get any action here.
And indoors, a rosemary plant.
Having missed the boat on tomatoes from the seed, I am still looking around for fully-sprouted plants to carry home, but no luck on the casual places-I-go-anyways beat. There'll be some at St. Lawrence Market, though, and a trip will be made sometime this week.
Here is the progress on the garden, Late June.
The spindly beans that were planted in the first batch died a
This one pea plant was transplanted into the window box as an experiment. It's doing better than its friends, below, but still needs the improvised support of an old knitting needle.
We are the peas and radishes. The peas are not looking so great and need to be moved to somewhere with less direct sun, but the radishes are happy and glorious.
The sage, twined up the pigeon netting. The stake it used to climb is now lonely, and it sobs.
The chilies, in increasing order of closeness and thus blurriness (never said I was a photographer). If you look at the last two, you can see the little white flowers on them that will become red chilies.
The lone cucumber, at a supremely odd angle.
Lettuces and spinach. I suspect it's going to take another deep container bed and some compost to get any action here.
And indoors, a rosemary plant.
Having missed the boat on tomatoes from the seed, I am still looking around for fully-sprouted plants to carry home, but no luck on the casual places-I-go-anyways beat. There'll be some at St. Lawrence Market, though, and a trip will be made sometime this week.
