It’s 10 a.m. on July 12. I’m just in from watering the garden—the garden I despaired of every producing much given the cool, wet spring and early summer. We were away from home for a few days and such was my lack of faith in my garden, that I wasn’t in the least concerned that no one was there to water while we were away even though, as fate would have it, the rainy spell dissipated just as we prepared to leave for British Columbia, ushering in a period of dry heat.
It was hot—capital H—in Kamloops when we were there. Our daughter, who we were visiting, doesn’t have air conditioning, and I was reminded of what it was like to cope in hot and dry Kamloops summers past when I was pregnant and, later, when with small children. Those children were both grown by the time Gerry and I married and he insisted on installing air conditioning. What utter bliss it was!
And so it was that I found it difficult at my daughter’s house in the sweltering near 38 C / 100F temperatures. I found respite at the mall; at my best friend’s house one morning/afternoon; and in the early morning hours in the backyard with Molly, while the rest of the house still slept, and it was still relatively cool outside. I survived. I enjoyed our time there, despite the relentless, sweltering heat.
Home again now, and the garden is thriving! Who could have guessed? There’s a bumper crop of beets. We’re enjoying Romaine lettuce salads daily, and I’m already wondering what to do with all the Swiss chard. There are tomatoes on the vines, pea pods are fattening, and all manner of things I planted are growing—mostly well. Radishes are a bust. I planted squash three times in the same place and nada (old seeds, I’m guessing).
And the garlic. Back in the fall, Gerry and I challenged one another to a garlic-growing competition. He planted bulbs in a planter in the garage and I tucked mine in one of the raised beds in the backyard. Mine didn’t survive the -50 Saskatchewan winter winds; meanwhile, he’s already cut scapes from his and it’s thriving.
Yet, isn’t that the way it is every year?
Some things thrive, others wither. There are lessons to be learned. The season of summer growth happens, though it’s different in any given year, and, in due time, the season gives way to autumn, then winter, and a time of rest and lying fallow. Fretting in the spring is futile; summer, with warmer temperatures and long days, will come in due time. Year after year, world without end. Sounds like there’s a life lesson there, doesn’t it?
Such a beautiful garden, Linda! I love the way you have it so organized and laid out so nicely.
Thank you, Karen! It’s become a real sanctuary.
So many life lessons to be gleaned from a garden! I said the exact words today “There’s a life lesson there”, as my son and I were admiring the abundance of leaves on the grapevine. We thought all the cutting back earlier had killed any hope of growth, but there was life there, after all!
We’re on the same page, Aneta!
I love your neat vegetable garden.
I had almost given up vegetable growing here in the hot, humid climate I live in.
However, I have just repainted two old wooden raised beds, which I intend to use for my favourite herbs. These are easy to grow in my climate.
I have also ordered some terracotta ollas, which I hope will help with water conservation.
Some people in our community garden in Kamloops used terracotta ollas. What a wise option. Hope you get much enjoyment from your herb garden.
When it comes to growing things in gardens that face such temperatures during winter’s dormant season really does take a lot of faith. And hopeful feathery wishing. Sometimes it works… barely; sometimes it outdoes our biggest dreams, and sometimes, as you said, it’s a bust. And often, it’s plain ole luck, despite my best or worst efforts, it treads its own path. As my grandfather was known to say, according to my mom when she was a girl, when it comes to growing things (whether in a farm field or a garden) it’s often ‘next year country’.
I enjoyed your post today, Linda. Glad you survived that +38C stuff in Kelowna. I could feel my face melting around the edges just thinking of that heat.
Methinks your grandfather was a wise man!