I spent last weekend putting nearly everything in the gahden to bed. I’m bringing some plants indoors, which I’m learning the hard way to “inspect for insects and disease” as the internet advises. But when the insects are really small, how the heck am I supposed to see them? And then a few weeks later there are nasty things crawling around in the plants. I still don’t understand how the outdoors keeps them from appearing, and indoors they emerge like it’s an all expense paid resort.
But I digress.
My 2 exciting fall gardening adventures are:
Gahlic
The garlic has been planted and secured against those digging bahstid squirrels and those nibbling bahstid bunnies. I may be a slow learner, but I think I’ve finally got it right this year. The first year, I innocently planted garlic in my window boxes in the fall and left them in the garden. Uncovered. Unprotected. Who would disturb garlic? It’s supposed to repel vampires, fer cryin’ out loud. Cue maniacal laugh. What a newb! Turns out Dracula does the city squirrels’ bidding. I got nothin’ that spring. Between the digging squirrels and the damn bunnies enjoying the scapes, those poor little garlic cloves were toast.
The second year, last year, I bought some fencing to put around and on top — ha, take that critters! I did get little baby bulbs, so I determined that they needed a little bigger area to grow than the window box. This year, I have them tucked away in roomy grow bags, completely enclosed and mulched. Come to mama, sweet little gahlic! And a big thank you to my brother for giving me his awesome seed garlic. He lives in Maine and has a real garden where the critters are normal and actually don’t like the garlic. Go figure!
Loofah
The second gardening adventure is my loofah. You know, that thing in your bathroom that scrubs away all your dead skin cells and leaves you fresh and beautiful. Yeah, it’s a tropical plant, and you can, theoretically, grow it in New England. I thought it would be fun to try.
I grew it from seed and then transplanted it in May. It grew a long vine, but there were no flowers, so I figured it was a not going to. But then it started flowering in late August. I was like, are you kidding me, Loofah? It’s August, we’re shutting things down in like 4 weeks, 5 tops, little plant. This is not the tropics; you gotta pick up the manic NE pace! The vine grew 3 loofahs, and you can eat them when they are young. Sounds barbaric, doesn’t it? I left one to get big and with a little luck and climate change, hoped that it might mature and dry into a loofah sponge. The other 2, I harvested and ate — tasted like chicken! Just kidding, more like zucchini. That 3rd one I gave my laser focus. It grew bigger and the mild September weather turned into mild October weather. I left it on the vine. Maybe it will start to turn yellow and dry out, she said in desperation.
Week after impossibly warm New England fall week, it hung there in all its effing green glory. Everything else in the garden was drying up, shutting down. But that dang loofah was out there with a cigarette and a shot of whiskey, and just did not give a fuck that it was one 32 degree night from extinction. I kind of admired it actually. This photo is from Oct. 5. Can you see the attitude? That’s actually another tropical plant to the left, called jilo, egging it on. I should have separated them
I knew the crazy warm weather wouldn’t last forever, so I harvested it last weekend and am trusting the internet, which says you can dry it inside. Sooooo, wish me luck, drying it in the one sunny window I have. Once it dries out and turns yellow and brown, I can peel it to get the scrubby part inside. We shall see.
So that concludes the gardening season of 2024. And now on to wrangling the indoor plants — dear god, what are those crawling things?
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