Labor Day

[turn on the sound]

Summer deliciousness

 The summer has gone by faster than a speeding puppy. Or maybe we should create a new metric: The Speed Of a Maine Summer (SOMS). Hmm. I'm not sure that will catch on. Nonetheless, my writing here has suffered. I'd lean toward apologizing for that, except that I don't know how I could have changed things. Today, Labor Day (5 September 2022) we've had high 50's temperatures and a much needed slow rain all day. John and I joined the birds at the feeder for a wonderful lunch on our front (covered) deck. A smattering of RED (not white) wine to go with. Summer isn't quite over. . . we're supposed to get into the 80's next week, but the cool weather is delicious and foretells the fall. There are even a few trees with yellow and red leaves scattered about, though it's likely premature senescence from the dry summer.

 

Cherry, Early Girl and Black Krim tomatoes

Still. The summer brought wonderful summery things to us, including visits from family and friends. It turns out that Maine is a more likely summer destination than Idaho was. Surprise! And. I realized today that we haven't quite been here for one year. . .I had to scour emails and last year's day planner to find it. We drove down this driveway for the first time on the afternoon of September 16th, 2021. Our Stuff didn't arrive until several weeks later. That's when I realized how very much I like furniture. Who knew?

Black Krim on the vine

Harvest dates were surprisingly similar to Boise's. Kale started in June, and would have completely overwhelmed us (the soil is Very good!), except that friends took a lot of it, and then a ground hog showed up who might have shut down the entire garden enterprise. It is surprising the amount of damage one ground hog can do. My first view of him was out our bathroom window. He was munching clover. Very acceptable. The next, though, was to see him from the bedroom window. I didn't actually see him. . . I saw the kale in the raised bed being shook from below. I ran out of the house in my bathroom yelling like crazy. He ran off for a bit, but continued to damage the kale, zucchini and eggplant foliage. By "damage", I mean completely destroy. He also had quite a taste for forget-me-nots. After trying some rudimentary fencing, red pepper, and red pepper flakes, a hiking friend told me about a solar powered sonar device. With great rolls of our eyes, John and I placed two near the vegetable beds. Shockingly, it worked. I'm not sure how long the effect will last. . . critters (as they are called here) are notorious for acclimating to such things, but the year's harvest, at least, was saved. And John was none the sadder for having lost the late kale crop.

 

More deliciousness

Cherry tomatoes started in the 3rd week of July, zucchini soon to follow. By the second week in August, we were awash in tomatoes, large and small. I tried (as I often do) a heritage tomato . . this one called Black Krim. . .along with the usual planting of Early Girls. It was disappointing, so I was glad to see that Early Girl performs as well in Oakland Maine as it does in Boise Idaho. Ripeness of the Black Krim was difficult to discern, and it had a shape that was like Beefsteak on steroids. . .most were very convoluted and not good for slicing as a result. I found them attractive, but not very practical. Their flavor profile was terrific for about 20 minutes. Ah well.

 

Peaches joined us in mid-August from one tree, and two weeks later from the other. I had to scramble to make some jam, because the peach crop overlapped with visitors and visiting, so many were given away. Really, a perfect use for peaches, since canning them never results in the juice-running-down-the-chin experience. Some were a little small, because I didn't QUITE thin them to the 1-per-6" rule, but the flavor was to die for in both cultivars. Those cultivars, by the way, remain unknown to me.

On the tree. . .

Peaches: the Belle of the Ball

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And now, we'll continue to gather our tomatoes, our lone eggplant (left on the plant until I figure out what I want to do with that lone survivor), and our apple crop is almost here. More on that, and other summer adventures in the next post!