Deciding Against an Autumn Garden

After much deliberation, I decided against an autumn garden this year.  We are homeschooling the eldest child, and busy with other tasks here at the Cottage.  I used to have Saturday mornings for my gardening.  Earlier this year, we had to change our schedule during the week.  Now, I have to accomplish errands on Saturday mornings, instead of getting them done during the week.  The boys are older, besides.  We've had birthday parties and fun events for them on Saturdays.  I find the window for gardening has closed in a way I hadn't expected.

Also, I've discovered that I enjoy writing far more than as a hobby or organizational tool.  I have been writing professionally.  Between homeschooling, caring for the children, the home and writing part time.  I no longer have the energy for two gardens per year.  The autumn is a busier time than the spring as far as lesson plans.  I am in no way giving up my Cottage Vineyard or the blog, but I am scaling back on the veggies and flowers.

The garden is still producing, despite my neglect.  The beets are flourishing as ever.  The garlic chives continue to expand.  My spinach survived the summer heat.  All the other plants have either died or been harvested.  The grapes thrive.  I will be pruning them severely this winter, in hopes of having an even heartier season next year.

My roses have also been pruned, by order of the city.  They were overgrown.  Due to the children's needs over the winter, I was unable to prune them as needed back in the winter.  They grew over the limits allowed by city ordinance.  I hope all of them come back from the pruning even healthier, especially our Old Lady.

The Tiny Life

Here at the Cottage, we are not in for the Tiny Life.  But, we are one step above it.  At 1100 square feet, we are half the average of a new home in the United States.  Across the world, we are well above average.  Five people in a three bedroom, one bath home is plenty.  With a garden - no, with a vineyard and swing set and play yard and a small garden, we have one happy family.

Tiny life is for another set.  We are not about those extremes, as appealing as they may be from one perspective.  Cottage is quaint.  Cottage is old-fashioned.  Cottage is historic preservation.  We are not here for a radical statement against social norms (in most things.)  Our cottage life is not about testing the limits of comfort or solace.  We are a normal family as far as our home is concerned.  Here at the Cottage, we conform to many aspects of normal life, even though we make tweak at the edges.

Cottage is warm, comforting and authentic.  Cottage is not making a radical political or social statement.  Cottage is good.  Cottage is hospitality.  Our little home is a loving place to be.

A Late Summer Lull In Gardening Activity

The fall garden is just around the corner.  Planting the fall garden is just around the corner. For the next few days, we have the remnants of summer.  The carrots continue to progress slowly.  The parsley plant is small, but hanging on to life.  I'm enjoying this quiet, and the absence of pressure to get out there and work.  If I don't get the seeds into the ground by the end of August, I won't have a season for the next few months.  I will have to make due with tending the remaining spinach plant, keeping the beets thriving and thinning the garlic chives.

There won't be a grape harvest this year.  None of the bunches survived, and I'm not sure why.  The south plant grew voraciously, but didn't produce.  The glorious abundance of the north vine assures me that the fault in harvesting is all mine.  Had I known better how to manage it, I would have had more lessons to learn this year.  I'll be more prepared next year to harvest.  I was too focused on getting ahead with planting new vines, rather than managing the two I have.  For now, I'm going to allow them their autumn.  After the leaves drop off, I'll prune them heavily.  I didn't last year for fear of killing them before they were established enough.  Now, I know they are ready.  I'll spend some time over their dormant months reading about what comes next for my vineyard.  The hesitancy is passed.  The feeling that it's so fragile and easily destroyed is behind us.

So it is with our boys.  I'm posting more about them on another blog these days.  As far as the vineyard is concerned, our boys growth parallels nicely.  We have a delightful - and concurrent metaphor - in both the boys and the vines.

The New Look of the Cottage Vineyard

It was time for something fresh and new.  Do you like the new format?

A Heavy Pruning After The Seed Harvest

Late last week, I harvested with a vengeance.  I gathered all the beet seed that I desired.  I refrained from harvesting every last seed.  I didn't think the return on my time would be worth it.  I pulled up all the coriander, plants and all.  The spinach seeds went who-knows-where.  I don't know if they were eaten or if they fell off.  The collard seed held no interest for me.  I put the two bowls of seed in the kitchen and let them dry for a couple of days before I put them up into the pantry for long term storage.

Then, on Saturday, I took the loppers and attended to the garden.  I was merciless against the collard plant. I didn't hesitate to pull up garlic chives along with weeds.  I lopped off most of the beet tops, seeds and all.  The compost pile was full.  The only thing remaining lush is the grape vines.  It feels so good to see the garden appearing loved.  It's not a picture perfect place.  It's still a working vegetable (and fruit) patch, not a display for flowers.  I'm thrilled.  I love caring for things.  I love the work itself.  It does me good.

The garden doesn't really care whether I care for it.  The plants grow one way or another.  My efforts in some ways are just a challenge for them, not a destruction (unless you ask the coriander.)  The garden will improve even if it doesn't know what I'm doing is good for them.  If only everything I loved were such an experience.

A Wild Place, With Dried Grapes

I am not quite sure what happened to my grapes, although I know very well what happened to my garden.  I allowed it to go to seed, as I posted previously.  Apparently, my grapes decided to go straight to seed as well.  They are either green and lush - weeks away from ripening, or they are seeds, no fruit in sight.  I wonder if the fruit was eaten.  Perhaps the heat turned the fruit to raisins.  The vines look wonderful.  I am amazed how much better the north vine looks this year than I expected it to look.  I will definitely be more prepared to cultivate it next year.  I dream of expanding our vineyard beyond it's little space, as I see how well, if how wild, my grapes progress.

The garden must so offend all who see it.  It's of no aesthetic pleasure.  Only an eye for heirloom seeds would understand how much I love it.  I am taken with the abundance of the beet seeds.  I only wish I had all the time I need to harvest and prepare them.  I am in no hurry.  I have a few weeks to attend to the children's needs before it's time to switch to my fall plantings.  I have harvesting the current seeds, nurturing carrots, weeding and preparing for planting.  It won't look wild for long.  Despite it's appearance, it's not truly wild now.  It's mature and sage and fertile.

Looking to Keep Heirloom Seeds

Looking to the future: I'm watching many of my plants go to seed in the garden.  I am so excited over the prospect.  I'm not concerned with harvesting the veggies for myself, although I'm sure to have my share.  I may not get the cucumber I dreamed of.  I may not feast on heirloom zucchini.  I pause on my desire for a full platter.

However, I would love the prospect of sharing my heirloom seeds this year, above my own palate's satisfaction.  My garden isn't (merely) my vanity.  My garden is about educating the children.  It's about preserving a method of gardening nearly extinct.  It's for something larger than myself.  If all I receive this year from it is the opportunity to share, then my garden is a success.  I know that I won't be limited to that.  I haven't been already.  It will be part of a larger story.  This year will be a harvest primarily of seeds.  Next winter and spring will be about a season of sharing.  For that, I can look forward to a delight.  Normally, my season of anticipation is winter for the upcoming summer.  This year, my anticipation is in the summer for the upcoming winter.

Who knows?  I don't even have the beginnings of the fall garden yet.  2013 may yet be a remarkable year all around.