Mid-November this year was similar to other years . . . grateful for greens still growing in the main garden despite below freezing overnight temps. This haul, on November 17, which I fried up with onions and dusted with nutritional yeast for that evening’s weekly Community Dinner, included arugula, kale, and collards, all underneath the radishes.
But then, over the past three days, the Garden Towers on the back porch at the Overhill House stopped producing salad greens. Today, the scene out there is positively pathetic. Time to defrock the GTs and feed the remains to the chickens.
Just checked the main garden. The arugula and collards are past saving, radishes are iffy, but both both curly kale and siberian kale are flourishing.
The weekly rhythm here is pretty simple, consisting of two regular types of group endeavors. First, we meet for work parties outside on Tuesday and Friday morning for two hours, to decide what needs to happen, and then to git ‘er done. You’d be amazed how much can be accomplished when four or five or more cooperate on a task with a common goal. Besides, it’s fun! Those whose outside work schedules interfere with our work parties accomplish a designated task alone or with another at other times during the week.
And second, we host a weekly potluck at one of our three houses (or outside on the patio when seasonal) every Thursday evening at 7 pm, inviting neighbors and friends from near and far. This event tends to be high energy, with terrific food, and done by 8:30 p.m. On each occasion, a brief, intense burst of energy, infusing us with a reminder that we have each other’s back, no matter what. Given the short amount time involved, it’s amazing how many conversations turn deep, quickly. It’s by no means just a polite occasion for chatting.
Here are a few photos from last week’s dinner, early on; more and more friends and neighbors kept arriving; ended up at eighteen strong!
Meanwhile, on Halloween evening I was very much looking forward to trick’er treaters, especially knowing that Ollie and Wyatt, who live just across the street, had been hosting their own Halloween party, which meant that their friends and parents all would come together to my front door for treats.
I waited and waited . . . I could even hear children yelling not far away . . . But . . . nobody came! Nobody showed up! I was devastated.
Their mom Carisa told me the next day that the kids all ran off to get treats without their parents, and that they never even headed my way. So I told them to come that evening, because obviously, I want to see their costumes and I still have my basket of treats!
Well, that evening they were still too exhausted from the high time at their own party. But the next evening they did show up, in costume — although Ollie’s punk look was missing the purple mohawk hairdo he had sported on Halloween, and little Wyatt, of course, came as Batman!
I love these pics, especially the way Wyatt gazes at his big brother.
And I love the way Carisa and her husband Logan parent their kids. A wonderful young family to have living just across the street.
We give them a garden plot each year, and next year Carisa has agreed to also guide a new generation of gardeners, the kids with their own designated plot just inside the fence. (We were going to do this a few years ago in that same place, but that gung-ho young family moved. So very glad for this new opportunity!)
Here’s the kids’ long narrow plot that we prepped during Tuesday’s work party.
We’ve moved inside for our Community Dinners these past several weeks. Likely to remain here until some time in May . . . Thursday evening, Overhill.
We’re still “putting the beds to bed in the main garden.” Almost done! At Friday morning’s work party, Tiger, our apex predator, decided to gift us with his presence, on top of one of the newly cleared hoops.
Now, two days later, last night’s scattered rain and wind showered bright yellow leaves.
Putting beds to bed takes time. We started the work awhile ago, and in last week’s post I described the six materials we layer on each bed.
During this past week’s two, two-hour work parties, we completed all beds in the main garden except those still producing kale, collards, arugula, and radishes.
Plus, Joseph cut back the bambooish stalks that haunt what used to be our lovely pond every year. Once again, I can see across the pond, now a wetland (it still does gather rain from roofs of two houses, which gradually seeps downhill into the garden beds) from my kitchen window to the rest of the garden!