Jungle Girl and the Beanstalk

Well, no beanstalk quite yet, but I am hopeful for some magical beans.... 

As in, the beans were harvested two years ago, and I just don't know how long they are good for.  Hmm, I am also thinking now that maybe there was supposed to be some refrigeration?  Or some germination testing on wet paper towels to see how viable the seeds are before putting them into soil?  I feel like I read that on a gardening blog somewhere, or saw it on a youtube video, or something along those lines.

And all I did was drop them into the soil.  Maybe my benign neglect will still be rewarded with something, some growth, some success.  Maybe, oh maybe.

It started with my concerted efforts yesterday to do some serious gardening, to try to make a dent in the weeds and to clear some space.  I picked more shiso and other herbs, including out of the planter where the "dau dua", or "chopstick beans" - probably long beans - were grown last year.  It just seemed like all of the other weeds could be tilled under, and then there'd be a quick and easy clean slate to start sowing.  And, oh my goodness, there's not much time left to grow!  I don't know that I have enough time as it is.  I really should have started two months ago, right?  Dear me - no time to be a proper gardener.

The tilled under planter, ready for the bean seeds.

 

So what I really meant to sow were the tomatoes.  But then I looked around, and the beans were easier and ready to be sown.  So, beans it is.



 

The empty shell - seeds gone and planted.

A seed, and the pod.



There were actually quite a few seeds - enough to tuck one under each of the trellis uprights, front and back.  And I think I started to tuck some midway between the uprights too.  All this from two beans.  And there are still more beans to go.

I didn't even have time this morning after planting to water.  I feel like maybe a watering is in order for tomorrow...  Would be good to give the poor little seeds a fighting chance.  Maybe I can harvest some bean greens and shoots, if these things turn out to be prolific.  Are bean shoots edible?  They should be, shouldn't they?  Well, it will take a while for anything to start happening, so I am sure I will have time to find out.  Were I an amateur botanist, I would just know off the top of my head.  But, balance - there's the day job to keep up with the bills and plan for retirement, and then the Jardin - which can only have so much of my day...

Balance - still trying to find it.



Chilling to the Chiller

Ah, the joys of co-op living....

My caddy-corner neighbor is engineering a takeover of our co-op board, slowly but surely.  So last night he hosted a meet and greet for new, approved, nominees at his apartment - which is lovely and renovated.  I arrived late to the meeting.  But at some point talk turned to my terrace.  To which my neighbor said something along the lines of "She has the terrace that I want." A nice compliment, sort of.  I am not sure whether he means he just wants my space, or if he actually likes what I've done with the space (he has seen it from above; he is one of the board members and has had access to the roof and, apparently, has peered over).

I had a conversation with folks about what I grow, or try to grow, about how much has died, about how the weeds have just taken off this year.  Whatever the conditions are that are most favorable to weeds, I feel like we had them this year.

And then, having met the new folks, who seem normal, and signed over my proxy, subject to taking it back at the meeting, I got up to excuse myself.  Took the short walk down the hall to my apartment, settled in to relax.  And then I heard a water sound - water hitting the terrace.  But, oddly, out the living room windows, nada.  I stepped out onto the terrace, and, like clockwork, water was cascading down the chiller.  It was the first day of air conditioning; the cascade is an annual ritual.  It gushes forth, sometimes with such force that it hits the parapet above the terrace, bounces, and lands onto the terrace.  Good thing I wasn't thinking to sit over there.  But that entire side of the terrace was soaked; the swing cushion - soaked.

So I marched back over to announce to my neighbor that the annual cascade was happening, and, hoping to avoid having anyone enter my messy abode, asked whether my neighbor could access the roof - no key, he said.  I referred to it as the "annual waterfall" - one of the new candidates, who just moved in a month ago, asked, alarmedly, "This is an annual thing?!"  My neighbor just shook his head, and asked me to send an email, which he would forward to the board, so there would be a paper trail.

So I did, and came back to try to take photos and video.  Very dark this year.  I'll find some photos from prior years...

 



The white noise from the chiller - I've gotten used to that.  Someone's got to be underneath the thing.  Of course, I never even noticed it when I was looking at the apartment.  I don't know that it would have affected my decision.  But now, well, I do have a bit of fear that the monstrous thing might come through the roof some day.  The white noise is not so bad, the shadow that it casts over my terrace - I can deal with it.  But the erratic aquatic spillage - not so great.  Luckily, my furnishings are all on the crappy side - so not so much damage, but still.  Not fun.  I shouldn't bear the brunt, my terrace shouldn't bear the brunt, for the building's having air conditioning.

Maybe the new board can do something about this.  I'll keep bothering my caddy-corner neighbor.

Not sure how that forceful water from above affects the few planters caught in the deluge; seems it can't be good.  But the plants have always survived.  And, during dry spells, I suppose they come out ahead of the other plants not in the deluge.  We shall see what becomes of all this.

Coming out of hibernation

Poor, long-neglected little blog.  I wonder if other blogs suffer the same fate.

Well, to catch up, I may just post some select photos from late fall and winter (and yes, this was "published" quite late; initially drafted in early April, and then life got in the way)...

Among other neglected items are the geranium root stocks I dug up.  I think the "inter-web" guidance was that the root stocks required occasional hydration through the winter. Well, that did not get done.  I will go now to see how they are doing.  First visit in about 3 months, I would say.  So much for saving money - that won't happen if they are dead....

Second wave tomatoes; practically frozen and never fully ripened.  But they made a good tart, salty, savory jam. I think I reduced soy sauce, added pickled leftover sushi ginger, and put it over tofu.

Geraniums - dug out of their planter in my attempt to avoid overwintering them indoors - laziness.

Geranium planter.  Truth be told, the windowsills get crowded - like every other NYC dwelling.

The parsley was unusually hardy.

Strawberries a little less hardy, but for freezing temps, that there was still some green was impressive.

Frozen water, in the water catchers.

The new building - at night.

 

By day.  No more sliver of river view for me.

Geraniums - about to be hung to be transformed into root stocks.

Tubs, turned upside down so as not to freeze and crack.

Same.

Light snow.

Hardy parsley, still hanging on.

January snow - the one that ruined my ski trip by grounding me in NYC - the irony.  In the foreground - a mandavilla.

Snow drift - northeast corner.

Snow drift - west side of terrace.

The Big Dig

It's the annual ritual of redistribution of wealth from the folks along Park Avenue to the rest of us peons, like Scrooge distributing the Christmas turkey (or was it geese?) - the annual digging of the tulip bulbs from the planted medians!

And, of course, growing up as I did of modest means, I don't say no to free stuff - usually.  And in this case, I am not saying no to good quality tulip bulbs, although I must admit to being at a bit of a loss as to where to plant said bulbs.  I considered taking some to Marmy, but I am not quite sure where in the Mother Garden they might go either.

But I will figure it out.  First thing's first - I had to get to digging... and so I did.  First I had packed a hand rake into a handbag that I took to lunch with my college friend, A, in from town from Richmond.  We ate at Craftbar (delish!).  I figured I could stop by Park Avenue on the way home.  But then I got distracted shopping in Chelsea, and then it started to rain.  So it didn't happen on Saturday afternoon.  But then I was super-resolved to do it Sunday.  Of course, the slight shame of availing myself of free bulbs did cause me to rise and go a bit earlier in the day than I otherwise would have - attempt to be a bit surreptitious about the whole endeavor.  Not sure why the shame should set in, this was a perfectly sanctioned salvaging, but there you have it; the perpetual shame of the poor.

And I thought to add gardening gloves and the bulb digger tool to the mix - very glad for that decision; it made the task easier - the hand rake alone would not have been enough (good thing it rained the day prior and I didn't have a chance to go it alone with hand rake).  And, the gardening gloves classed up the endeavor a bit.  The few people out and about and who crossed the street right at that intersection most ignored me, I think.  Maybe a few were curious - so it felt better digging on the dug side.  But there was one older man who greeted me with good morning; hard to tell whether it was a condescending "I see what you are doing" sort of a greeting, or a genuine "I know what you are doing and I would much rather these bulbs not get wasted, although I would never dig in the dirt" sort of greeting.  But I had on my sleek running outfit - leggings, light running breaker - I think I looked the part of the Upper East Sider who just happens to be environmentally conscientious, not necessarily the middle class Upper Far East Sider.  So I'd like to think, anyway.

Someone had already started digging in this one - made it easier for me to keep going.

The one on the other side of this street still looked pristine - I was not quite ready to ruin it.

I tucked into my light running zip-up a plastic bag to carry home my loot.



It was hard work.  I was there for nearly an hour, I think.  Despite the rain from the day before, the soil actually was rather dry and packed.



I'd like to think I was doing a service.  Someone would just have to come through and dig all of these up anyway, and then haul them to a composter.  At least, I hope they get hauled to a composter, and not simply to a landfill.  What a true waste that would be.  In years past, my sissy ("Sissy") has said a lot of the planted beds were almost entirely dug up - at least, the ones she had gone to.  Maybe those were closer to midtown, back when she worked down that way, where the secretaries and support staff from the office buildings surrounding those medians would be more likely to take advantage.  Because up in my neck, truly, still pristine and un-dug beds.

Some dirt - sure sign of my digging guilt.

I found a pair of plastic crates on the way home; I picked up one (I got the other one later) - great carrier for my bulbs.

So, a Park Avenue-residing Upper East Side lady might get some dirt on her arm digging up tulip bulbs, but I don't think she'd be picking up plastic crates discarded on the sidewalk to take home with her.  An Upper Far East Sider, though, well, we're a different breed.

On the way home, I passed by Third, and it was clear vendors were setting up for a street fair - the beginning of New York City street fair season!  I love them, other than when I am trying to get through traffic and one is in my way.  So my dig gained me some valuable intell on neighborhood happenings, which I shared with Sissy - I knew she'd be my partner in crime on that one.  She may love them even more than I.





Home to the terrace.


 

 



I called Marmy to ask her whether she would want to come in to dig.  Too far, she said.  But I don't know whether I will have the time or energy to go back and dig for her.  I think I may have hit my limit at the roughly 15 that I dug - color completely unknown; I'll just have to be surprised.  (Ah - after a bit of research, the Fund for Park Avenue reports that they are yellow.  Thanks, Fund for Park Avenue! And thanks to This Week at the Market for sharing the information!  Will need to set a reminder for this next year....)  But, truly, what a waste if they are not all dug up.  I might try again toward the end of the week - there won't be so many people digging on Memorial Day weekend.  It might end before then.  Maybe for Marmy, maybe for some of the unplanted medians on First Avenue - the one down my street does not seem to be intentionally planted.  Someone put in maybe one or two - it needs more, definitely.

We shall see....

The Winter Garden (theater)

Maybe "theater" is a bit of an exaggeration, but the temperature fluctuations of this past weekend were quite dramatic.  The forecast was for a frigid Saturday, followed by a freakishly warm, but completely rainy Sunday.

So, the goal for Saturday was to attempt to dig out the geraniums and overwinter the root stocks indoors - yes, I am being cheap.  I was also trying to avoid bringing inside another big planter - would much rather leave the big trough outside.  The three mandavilla planters and, now, the little sickly lime leaf tree are more than enough...

[Full disclosure: I never finished this and just found it.  Might as well publish so we can get caught up....]

First Harvest of the Season (2016)

Yes, only mid-May, and already a harvest... of shiso (tia to) and kinh gioi.  I'll have to figure out the translations and English names at some point.

I suppose it's not so unusual to be harvesting them - they DO come up like weeds.  I decided I needed to be more proactive this year, thin out their ranks before they take over everything, like they did last year.  So, on this, one of the first warm-enough days this year, I checked the various pots and planters where they were NOT supposed to be, and picked them out, cutting off their roots, and dumping them into a colander with a tub underneath. 

Purple shiso one of the pot that had one of last year's tomatoes, and the parsley

Shiso seedlings taking advantage of water/soil seeping from underneath a planter - the one with the Endless Summer hydrangea, I think

Shiso amid the weeds (I guess really, the other weeds)

Before: Green shiso, in the pot with the blackberry

 

Weedy as they are, and they most certainly are, it is hard to bear the thought of simply tossing them into the compost pile.  They're edible - I grew up in the don't waste any food school of rearing; maybe it's that I still carry with me the psychological marks of a Third World birth, and was raised by parents who came into adulthood there.  We just don't waste food.  So I felt the need to pick them carefully and clean them for a salad.  Last year I got into trouble not getting to them early enough - they grew and grew and grew, and we could not eat enough of them, my sister and I.  They got too big and the leaves were large, and there were too many plants.  So today's resolution was to get them while they were still teeny weeny to small, so they could be consumed, and as sissy was in class today, consumed alone by me, for lunch.

 

This pot stayed intact; it's for the regular purple shiso.  Probably needs some thinning in days to come.

After: Blackberry pot after being mostly weeded of the green shiso.

 

The initial harvest.

Then I realized how much green shiso there was in the blackberry planter.



And at the end of it all, there was enough for a light lunch!  I was going to have bun (rice noodles) at first, but then realized I had enough leaves to probably have a full-blown salad.  Luckily, the stems are still tender and edible - less work for me!  (And, I wanted to save enough room in the belly for potential street fair food.)

 

Just added meatless sausage (pretty tasty!), and tossed it in nuoc man with some sriracha.  Not bad.

So there we have it - two birds with one stone.  Weeding and eating :)



Tweets - retro style

From earlier in the spring, one of our fine feathered friends... plump, cute.  I have no idea what sort of bird this is.  Perhaps one day I will find out; perhaps one day I will have oodles and oodles of time to devote entirely to gardening and this blog.  On the other hand, that might be a bit too much time, at least, for the next 25 years or so; maybe in 25 years it will be ok to do nothing but....

(Note: Rosemary referenced in earlier post was still alive when this photo was taken.)

 

Unclear what the attraction was for our little friend.  My hope is maybe he came for some of the seeds - the shiso stems still had seeds in them, I think.  So maybe it was an early spring break-fast.  Or, just a stop-in.  Who knows.  The bird bath isn't visible in the photos, but it could probably use a cleaning before true spring comes.

 

Much to do, much to do.



Spring... awakening ... then asleeping...

It was very warm, for a few days, way back when, weeks and weeks ago, now it seems.  And then, some sort of omega weather pattern has beset us for the last few, and seems to have eradicated the few traces of warmth.

So what has come back in?  Weeds.  Lots and lots of weeds.

 

A few little violets among the weeds.  But, mostly, weeds.  It was warm enough for them to grow, but then it's been too cold now for me to yank them out, to cut them up and compost them back.  So they continue to grow, and thrive.

 

While a whole bunch of other things have died.  My poor rosemary - does not seem to have made it.  And it was supposed to be an alpine rosemary, or something like that.  Some variant of highly cold-tolerant rosemary.  It hadn't seemed dead all winter.  But now it is just brown.  I am waiting - maybe with all the rain, it will come back to life.

 

The rosebush - my baby's blanket from my mama's garden (the "Mother Garden") - is a definite goner.  It didn't really get anywhere last year.  And this year, no signs of life yet.  It's that first photo up above - all weeds in that planter.  Maybe a few of the dianthus have made it.  So, over Mother's Day, on a trip to Hicks, I picked up a new resident for the planter...

 

 

 

... a little $20 reject from the clearance shelves.  Looks sprightly, right?  I now can't remember what type I picked up - as I recall, the debate was between a white Knockout type variety (Marmy said those do well and are easy) and a pink-looking one of a different variety.  Well, we'll see.

 

And then there are the mandevillas - forced outside a few weeks ago.

 













 

 

They are not growing quite as prolifically as when they were overwintering indoors, but they are still growing.  Interestingly, the growth is darker - not the bright green like when they were indoors.  And definitely more stunted.  But I'm glad they are just hanging in there and still alive.  Have to get them over to their little trellises.  And the one plant that was going berserk, well, I am making an attempt to propagate.  I saw a you tube video that says they will root in a couple of weeks if the new growth is pinned down to some soil - not easy when they are in their vertical climbing habit, so I thought I'd try this in this phase, with a little cast-off container propped on the dining table benches.  If successful, they get to go to the Mother Garden.  (One of the few items Marmy was ready to pick up from Hicks were red mandevillas.  If this works, then I'll be able to give her some pink ones.)

 

So, lots of waiting and seeing.  And hoping for a true spring, a warm spring.  Soon.