late, cold summer

The joy of finding all those lovely seedlings at the plant sale was almost completely mitigated by the cold of June ("June-uary" was on the lips of every gardener). The summer seemed 2 months late. While the warmpth did persist into October, the hours of sunlight still diminished right on time. I got about 4 tomatoes this year from my purchased plants (and about that many from the yellow pear volunteers that poked through the soil the week after I planted foot-tall purchased plants.) I've resigned myself to the fact that reliable tomatoes in this valley come from cold frames and greenhouses, and so far I have neither. So that's my winter project this year. In addition to figuring out how to actually blog on occasion.)

Yesterday I planted a few tiny bulbs ("Mountain Lillies", the box said) into a flower bed I built this summer. I'm hoping the more blatant bribe will bring pollinators over to my veggies. This spring I'm planning on doing something horrible to my tulip bulbs -- this yard's fanciest tulips were planted around a small bay laurel stripling several years ago. Full bloom is the only time I'll be able to find and dig them, to transplant them to a more suitable showcase location. But in the end, I believe they'll be grateful. Much like the two bigger dahlias I intend to move this Thursday (after setting up a crock pot of hot cocoa, if it's raining and miserable.) And, a bit at a time, I'll bring that mini orchard into fruitful order. I've already warned my office mates that when the high pressure system comes through in January I'm taking a day off for fruit tree pruning.

Fall is best enjoyed in the context of the fruits of the previous summer, so this one's not going to be the best fall I've ever had. Perhaps I should think of it as a pre-spring.