Buckets and buckets of leeks, and still more to pull. They'll stay in the garage until I can trim them. |
The temperature this morning was 25 degrees Fahrenheit. This followed Thursday's high of around 70 degrees F. For at least the next week the forecast calls for lows in the 20s, and at least one low in the teens.
So I've called it quits. The garden has been generous and I'm ready for a little hibernation. It was time to pull all the leeks and radishes, chop off the heads of cabbages and radicchio, and, finally, cut the lettuce and arugula. I even cut all the kale and cilantro. I spent three days doing all of this. The garden is done.
Cabbages |
But I'm not. The cabbage roots are still in the ground, their large lower leaves splayed out. Eventually, I'll put them in the compost heap. Kale stems also still stand... perhaps if I leave them they'll come back in the spring? It's happened before.
The ground where the leeks grew must be smoothed and covered with hay, same with the bed that held the purple daikon radishes.
All of the beds need to be tidied. The plastic hoops that held up row cover and shade cloth stand uselessly in the ravaged garden and should be put away.
Purple daikons and my not-bare foot. |
I haven't even yet taken down the trellis that the long bean vines climbed, even though it's been at least a month since I pulled the vines.
Once the growing areas are tidied up and mulched with hay (if I can find any spoiled hay to buy for my mulch) I can move on to other projects.
For example, I had hoped to have dug all the unwelcomed plants from my little sweetgrass prairie last winter, as well as digging all the apothecary rose from the corner of the strawberry compound. -- I love the apothecary rose, but it needs better containment so it doesn't invade the strawberry beds. -- I started both projects last winter, but weather intervened. Then spring planting prevented me from making much headway. Of course, summer always brings its own busy-ness.
I did make a little headway, but all are far from done.
And the paths must be weeded, again, so my husband can lay fresh wood chips. The garden continues to beckon...
... and so does the kitchen. Both are crammed with the last of the harvest. Something must be done. We'll make cabbage curries and maybe some sauerkraut. I wound up with 21 heads out of the 30 plants I set in the ground. A few plants just didn't make it, and some just didn't make heads. For whatever reason, maybe the heat, the cabbages developed slowly, so they were all fairly small, but still lovely heads. Some are not much bigger than my fist and a few are smaller, more like giant brussels sprouts, but still dense and firm.
Radicchio, Rossa de Verona. |
More than a dozen heads of red and white radicchio made their way into my harvest basket. Not everyone likes this bitter relative of chicory, but I have learned to love bitter foods... they're really good for the digestion. I like to chop a little radicchio into salads. Vinegar and oil tames the bitterness -- at least my tastebuds think so. And I've found that I really like radicchio sauteed in ghee with leeks and carrots. It feels nourishing.
And on and on... we even still have apples in the refrigerator drawers. Baked apples? More apple butter?
The garden has been laid to rest, even though I'm not getting much rest. And next year's garden is already growing. Last month I planted garlic. The rows are now marked with little green garlic shoots soaking up sunlight to make bulbs for me to dig next summer. The circle is unbroken.
Garlic! |
2 comments:
Hi--
I am ever envious of your garden--and have high hopes for mine this next year. I have been working on it this winter, one bed at a time on lovely days--stomping down the weeds, cover them with a layer of leaves (thanks to all the people in town who rake and bag them), some compost/dirt from the pathways, a layer of compost from the year's accumulation in the duck house, etc. But your garden is truly a glorious thing--and this end-of-the-year bounty looks amazing.
Theresa
Thank you. One shovel full of dirt at a time is how I did it. You'll get where you want to go.
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