We get busy around here. And sometimes things get put on a back-burner. Of course, putting things on the back-burner literally or metaphorically speaking is a recipe just begging for that not-so-subtle scorching smell that reminds us that we really shouldn't have taken that nap without checking everything first...
Well, the chili isn't too bad -- sort of a chipotle flavor, if you don't mind fishing the occasional burnt crunchy bit out. And the yard is still pre-inferno, with the added bonus that the weather is finally cooling down from the eyebrow-singeing Kiilauea on a bad day to balmy temperatures mildly reminiscent of The Towering Inferno. We can weed again, provided we don't go out in the noon-day sun like Mad Dogs & Englishmen.
The citrus has survived my duck-enthusiasm, but the ducks pretty much ruined the pop-up greenhouse, so the trees will be flying South for the Winter. Or rather, will be chauffeured to warmer climes by one erstwhile duck-owning, orange-chasing, plants-things-out-of-season Brown Thumb blogger. Fortunately a relative of mine has a foster home he's willing to lend me for about three months.
I never did get around to planting Baby Pam pumpkins, but the Rouge Vif d'Etampes did get sprouted; I don't know if we're going to get actual pumpkins on the vines but at least they got planted. My hops are batting .500; the Chinook was a no-show and the Canadian Redvine gave up the ghost after valiantly battling the desert heat, while the Willamette and the Newport are gamely struggling on. They aren't large but they are alive. I'm thinking about investing in a misting system for the hops and the tomatoes next season -- tomato pollen goes sterile at 97 degrees, and we can get up to 120 here in the high desert. If misting gets the temps down to where I can enjoy a longer tomato season, well, I'm all for it. Of course, knowing my ignorance and my luck, I'll probably get a rambling rust fungus or something even worse.
For a while we thought Frankenrose was dead; there wasn't a single live leaf on the entire sprawling monster. A lot of the limbs were green, just no leaves. Finally I lopped off most of its longer dangly limbs as a beginning stage of digging it up and consigning it to the trash bin. And then, of course, the whole digging-up-the-rose got put on the back burner. One day when I was waxing wroth about the state of MB's room, I glanced out the window and stopped mid-rant. There were actual leaves on Frankenrose. (ahem) "It's ALIVE!!"
Grapes have been harvested and their juice extracted; said juice is now residing in my freezer until I can afford to get canning gear. I want to make jelly, darn it, but the Universe is busy teaching me patience.