Jogging Toward Summer Solstice 2020

There's about two weeks left before summer officially rolls in. Chez nous, the crop method is the preferred one and not succession planting. There's a push now to get all of the vegetables planted before the longest day arrives. To cheer me up as I sieve compost, wield spades/forks/rakes, and keep recently sowed beds moistened, I recall with great fondness of all the produce already harvested and processed since February such as asparagus, rhubarb, peas, and strawberries waiting to be included in delicious meals for the coming months. Sometimes I take a break just to check out crops getting closer to being picked to ensure I don't miss the best time to harvest, like blueberries. Lovers of acidic soil that blueberries are, they wouldn't flourish in the slightly alkaline earth in our garden. Instead, they do their blue thing in large pots filled with an acidic potting mix. Keeping one of them company is a cobalt blue, hand-blown glass fishing float which most likely made its way from Spain and got put on display at a flea market in France, specifically in Grenoble, where we became happy buyers. One of the highlights of my twilight garden exercise romps started when lockdown first began and which I still do is bending down here and there, sampling a blueberry, a raspberry, and a strawberry.

This berry-festooned branch is just one of many.

Below photo: the green beans are in and covered with horticultural fleece to prevent them from being eaten by birds.  The parterre with bushy plants directly in front of the beans is one of our two potato beds. The two unkept ones in the foreground will eventually be planted with strawberry runners and carrots. The silvery, boxy thing in the lower left hand corner is one-half of the coldframe we got at Lidl just before the Covid-19 lockdown. The splash of vivid red in the lower right are volunteer poppies.

The heat-loving, purple osteospermums were potted up last autumn and brought indoors. Two out of three plants survived the confinement and are flourishing in the front garden. This winter they will go into the coldframe, watched over judiciously, and if needed, brought indoors. But this time, I will put the pot on wooden slats placed over circular trays filled with water to provide humidity. Though they get enough light in our living room, the central heating is a stress. Hopefully these two specimens will continue to over-winter through the years.

Calendula were sowed in flats early spring and kept in the cold frame until it was warm enough for them eventually to embrace the big, wide wonderful world. Their hardening off started when the frame was first propped open during daytime for a week followed by the seedlings being outdoors for a few hours over a period of several days leading to spending an entire day before being transplanted into the big pot where they will spend their time until autumn. Having never grown them before, I wonder if maybe I shouldn't have pinched the young plants in the hope they will be less leggy when mature as I might have ended their flowering capability. I won't relax until I see their wonderful orange blooms!

The beets were sowed the other day. It is such a pleasure to work our veggie beds as the soil has been so much improved over the last ten years with the additions of compost, leaf mulch, wood chippings, grass clippings, and green manure. It's fluffy and a lovely shade of brown. Yes!

Turnips and carrots are the last two vegetables needing to be sown. Carrots have a specific set of challenges which when met will yield a most satisfying crop. Like all homegrown veggies, their taste has a depth of flavour that is incomparable. That paper cone holding up the seed packet in the below photo is a DIY tiny seed sowing device. The seeds being quite small means that too many may get planted hence becoming crowded as they grow in size which requires thinning. As they are thinned their distinctive fragrance will attract a certain species of low-flying, white butterflies who then will deposit eggs which become larvae burrowing down into the edible root completely destroying its comestible value by leaving it riddled with brown tunnels. This destruction is carried on out of sight, therefore it is only when the crop gets pulled out of the ground, the cruel realisation hits, that after all that hard work, there are no carrots to eat.

To ensure that a nice steady stream of seeds are sowed, wet ordinary paper, like from a notebook, rolling it into a cone with a narrow opening. Press the outside edge to seal while still wet so it won't unravel. Moistening the paper and letting it dry roughens up its texture, slowing down the flow of seeds. If any thinning is necessary, the late afternoon is the best time as the butterflies are not around too much at that time. Another approach is to cover the thinned seedlings with horticultural fleece for about a week so their scent would have dissipated. In addition to keeping them free of larvae, they like loose soil which is as stone/pebble free as possible. Our bed is spaded and forked well, but it is not obstruction free so the only variety that I have had any success with is Carentan which has a mid-length and stout top half. If its growth gets forked by a stone, there's still enough carrot for the pot. Keep in mind during the several weeks it takes for the seeds to germinate, the soil must be kept evenly moist. A hose nozzle that makes a fine mist is a way to water without bunching up the carefully spaced seeds. Last year's harvest is still feeding us at the moment; I am guessing that it will supply about eighty percent of our annual needs. Hence just a few months of supermarket buying will suffice to get us to this season's harvest. 

Besides getting all the crops in before the solstice, I also try to get any desired cuttings from existing evergreen stock started. After getting dipped in growth hormone, planted in small pots, and thoroughly watered, they are drapped with clear plastic bags and kept under the pergola. When new growth is detected then they will be placed in the sun. If they do not reach nursery-bed transplantation size before winter, then they will go into the coldframe. All that condensation inside their little plastic homes is a comforting sight because it means until their roots form, they will still receive moisture through their leaves. A ton of laurel and heather cuttings already have been propagated leaving Leyland cypress, ivy, and rosemary to be done. Whew!

À la prochaine!

Late Winter Garden Doings 2020

The last several weeks chez nous have been marked with increasing activity in the garden. Spades, small and large, pruning saws, a grass-cutting line trimmer, a compost-turning fork, and more are scattered here and there throughout the garden. When locking up for the night—occurring later and later each time—the order of the day is retrieving all those tools and securing them in the mudroom. The centre bed was planted two autumns ago with daffodil bulbs generously donated by a small, crowded, ten-old patch. Last spring, it sported lots of foliage, but just five flowers! The leaves were allowed to wilt completely, nourishing the bulbs therefore giving forth a prominent splash of the brightest yellow this spring. The spade below is for working the second of three to-be-pea beds. Peas need the soil to be around 4.5 degrees C/40 degrees F, so cool, not cold, but neither warm. Being without a soil thermometer, I instead flipped over a deep clod of earth and touched it. Not yet ready for planting peas. Probably within the week. Otherwise, they will sit and sulk in the wet soil, encouraging rotting. Another sign that sowing is around the corner are the sedges of cranes flying up from North Africa beginning last week.

I looked at those cheery trumpets and thought flower bouquet! And I did need a break. So out came the secateurs. First, several daffodils were cut. Then some heather.

Also a bunch of sweet violets. I needed to reach below the lusty foliage to get at the beauties as they grow up from the plant's base.

They all went in the flower brick on the mantlepiece.

Ah, the FRESH perfume of just cut flowers!

As I was fertilising the asparagus bed, I noticed a volunteer bay laurel seedling. Bay laurels are versatile, hence think of a place for them in your garden, whether as a potted herb or a hedge or a small tree. And what a gorgeous fragrance when clipped! It makes you want to run into the house and cook up a stew. I use them in all three ways, and plus, they are evergreen, wonderful for blocking out whatever needs to be. A pot was filled with potting mix, well watered, and the seedling transplanted. It will remain out of the sun under the pergola, wrapped in its own plastic-bag 'greenhouse' until its roots adapt. Right now it has to rely on its leaves to absorb moisture.

An acquaintance of The Calm One gave us lots of mini-roses. About twenty in total. I gave them a light pruning, will spray against disease like blackspot/mildew and fertilise in the near future. They will remain in their pots this season. Once I see what colour the roses have, I'll decide on their permanent locations, whether in the ground or in planters.

There are two Juniper 'Skyrockets' whose height match my own flanking a laurel hedge on the garden's west side. A month ago or so, strong winds loosened one of them, causing it to list to one side. It was the one with the widest branches so I pruned it a bit to make it as slim as its partner, and then I circled both with paving stones to provide support. So far, so good.

I love compost especially the stuff I make myself which smells like the way it looks, luscious, aerated, and nourishing. There's a nice mound that has overwintered and waiting for a good sieving. Some of it will be forked into the three beds slated for pea sowing.

These seed potatoes are red-skinned, yellow-fleshed, all-purpose, midseason 'Rosabelle' from the local garden centre and are certified disease free. They require several weeks of sitting in old egg cartons on a sunny windowsill so they can grow sprouts a 2.5 cm/an inch or so tall. These have about two more weeks to go. This growth is different from the long, white strands poking out of poorly stored potatoes. These are stubby and coloured from lavender to green or a mix. They essentially are the stems that will grow eventually above the soil, leaving the attached and developing potatoes underground until ready to dig up.

À la prochaine!

Autumn Advances

Days are becoming shorter and colours more sombre. Nearly two months of steady rain have also contributed to the lessening of light where it seems each day is just one premature, sustained gloaming. Semi-evergreen penstemon with their claret-coloured blooms are still going as they have been since early summer therefore making themselves especially valuable for smaller gardens like ours where every plant must work harder and longer in providing visual interest regardless what season. In larger gardens, the gaps resulting from short-lived displays don't dominate as much because there's always something of interest somewhere. Root veggies, planted just six to eight weeks ago, are getting closer to harvest. Their lush foliage is a welcomed contrast to withered and falling leaves, but I must say I enjoy the satisfying crunch of dead leaves underfoot!

Violet turnips are gleaming like huge amethysts. 

Carrots need another month to become mature.

But until then, the small, tender carrots which are thinned out to allow others to grow larger will have to do. And they do very well indeed when they are briefly simmered in butter and a bit of water. The water evaporates leaving the carrots with the most scrumptious glaze made by the butter and the sugar naturally occurring in these garden-fresh baby carrots.

The strawberry bed has put out many runners; twelve of them have been potted up in a recycled shallow container. The rest of the runners have been clipped and put on the compost so as not to choke the original plants' growth. Strawberry plants become less productive with each passing year, necessitating propagation every season. This coming spring, these runners will have developed enough roots to be transplanted into a bed which haven't had any strawberries planted for several years as strawberries are disease-prone and must be rotated. In early summer, four-year, hardly productive plants will be removed after harvest. As the bed empties through time, other crops are planted  Strawberries are worth all the trouble as our freezer can attest: container after container of slightly sugared, delectable berries waiting to be put into smoothies, cobblers, and more simply, served in their own syrup and dressed with vanilla-flavoured whipped cream.

Autumn is an excellent time for planting new arrivals and relocating existing ones. Sixteen laurel plants which came from cuttings of established laurels on our property were transplanted from their three-year-old nursery bed. I did one most days. The steady rainfall kept the soil at the right moisture level throughout the three-week period so not only the holes could be spaded easily but also sieved compost from our pile could be incorporated readily with the dug-up earth. The newbies will lengthen the existing hedge to completely flank the back garden's eastern boundary. The splendid but self-seeded and rather large rose of Sharon which has pressed itself against the fence presented a problem but my solution so far seems to be working. After digging a few trial holes, I could see no competing roots. I did give the bush's expansive branches a good pruning so I could work around it, digging and transplanting. The 'hedglings' are positioned around ninety centimetres (three feet) from the wire fence so as to allow an alley where I can go to clip and trim behind the hedge. 

Across the back garden, along the opposite boundary fence, the five Leyland cypress trees which were planted last autumn, mostly developed roots this season, reserving energy so they can grow an astonishing ninety centimetres (three feet) next year. They will fill in the space left by the much slower-growing ivy which has covered the majority of that fence and all of a cement wall. As with many serendipitous pairings, as the ivy became more and more of a background for the red rose already planted there I slowly realised that one of the most spectacular colour combos is a floriferous cloud of red roses being framed by a tall expanse of stalwart, dark-green ivy. The cypress will elaborate further on that theme.

The trees grew only thirty centimetres (one foot) this summer. But once they get going, they need at least four trims per year or else there will be a dark, brooding forest on that side! Therefore I use them very sparingly as they gallop away with growth before you can locate your shears. Since neighbours seldom appreciate being shrouded in gloom and gigantic trees are not able to be felled with clippers, it is not uncommon for these lovely trees to be the basis for legal disputes.

The potted bougainvillea has started to present their true flowers, tiny white blooms in the centres of gorgeous crimson sepals. That cheery yellow around the pot's base is provided by perennial snapdragons which have self-sowed in the cracked patio and have decided to perform a second show after their early summer debut.

Giant lavender which has been blooming since August is holding onto some of its flowers. A peony's burnished foliage complements the bluish spikes.

À la prochaine!

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Strawberry Cobbler

Fall Frenzy

Our garden is a busy place in autumn. A spell of dry, warm weather is being cooperative allowing my speeding about trying to do this and that at the same time. Les grues (cranes) have not yet started their directly overhead, honking migration to North Africa. Once they do that, then there's about a two week grace period before the cold arrives. One of many tasks is spading the nine annual beds so as to prepare for the sowing of engrais vert (green manure). This horticultural practice was started for the first time last autumn. The results have been nothing short of amazing. Though compost and leaf mould have been incorporated into the soil since our moving here eight years ago, it was only after just one seasonal planting of white mustard that the earth finally reached the holy grail status of friable texture. It is the extensive root system of this fast-growing group of plants which works like a hidden plough, finely breaking up the soil as they grow.

Centre bed is planted with left-over mustard seed and hose is kept nearby for the necessary sprinkling; the bed behind is in process of being spaded

This season, blue tansy (Phacelia tanacetifolia) will be the dominant crop cover since it belongs to a family that contains no plants that are used in agriculture so it makes rotation (prevents plant disease) easier in our potager. Since it needs darkness to germinate, the soil is shallowly turned over once the seed is scattered. A light hammering with the back side of a spade over the bed then follows. The finishing touch is a gentle watering.

Their flowers are loved by bees, but when used as a green manure, it's best to cut down the plants before blooming because of pronounced re-seeding

The raking and piling-up of fallen leaves have begun in earnest. There's still some crunchy drifts in a few corners of our garden, but that task mostly is done. However the major amassing will occur in a couple weeks as the leaves in a nearby oak copse have started falling. The Calm One and I will be scooting down there several times weekly in our Zoe (Renault electric car) whose surprisingly roomy boot accommodates two sizeable leaf bags. As the heap grows, more bird netting is rolled out to prevent scattering by the wind; the netting edges are secured by surplus terracotta roofing tiles. Oak leaves break down fast enough that by early spring there will be plenty of mulch for the veggie beds. That mulch will decompose completely into moisture-retentive leaf mould as the summer unfolds.

The bird baths will be maintained throughout the winter

Ivy climbing up pillars, fences, and walls have gotten their last haircut as has the laurel hedge before the winter. Not to mention the lawn.

To elongate the existing laurel hedge, a number of cuttings were taken this past spring. They were trimmed (stem shortened, leaves reduced in number then cut in half), the bottom of their stems dusted with rooting hormone, potted up, and tucked into small, tabletop greenhouses. Only a small percentage are showing new leaves so they will stay in their little plastic homes throughout the winter. Once they all show new growth, they will be planted in a nursery bed. Eventually they will join the mature ones in the hedge.  The snipped-off runners of the strawberry plants were planted in small pots about six weeks ago and are now ready to be transplanted in a bed.

See the pale, small, new laurel leaf in the bottom centre? Too cute!

My love for tulips is a recent and very guilty pleasure. My flower preference is for perennials like daylilies, dahlias, asters, etc., and inexpensive, grown-from-seed annuals like zinnias and cosmos. Tulips unfortunately except for the botanical species, often do not put on a good repeat show. And they are like potato chips. How, you may ask? You can't just eat one chip, and you can't just plant one tulip. You must have dozens and dozens and dozen to get that punch of colour that only many glowing tulips of different types can provide throughout spring.

Dirac the Cat has assured me that this avalanche of tulip bulbs is a necessity and not an indulgence

Autumn is not only the time to buy and plant flowering bulbs like daffodils and tulips, but also to pop into a nursery bed, some young, easily shipped, and therefore inexpensive, evergreens like these two adorable Lawson's cypress 'Ellwoodii'.

They will be planted in their permanent location next fall so they can grow into their tall selves

These zinnias are still going strong but when they do succumb to the cold, a major part of the tulips will be planted in their place.

Eight years ago, this same pot of mums brightened up our Grenoble balcony overlooking the foothills of the Alps for ten years. Yup, that's right, this perennial in a pot has been going for eighteen years. I do give it liquid fertiliser faithfully a couple of times each year. But still. What a champ!

I am very attached to this baby

A large pot of echeveria and heather adorns our entrance steps.

À la prochaine!

Maintaining One's Cool

A hot spell has started in the southwest of France and will continue for at least a week. Shade-loving plants invite you to come out of the heat and spend some time in their haven of freshness. Several months ago, I lightly covered three fragrant, cascading tuberous begonia bulbs with potting mix. Each were given a separate pot of around 20 cm/8 inch diameter. They were kept warm and slightly moist until the weather became mild which is when they were put outside in the shade until their foliage appeared. They then could have been planted directly in the ground or as in my case kept in pots. In the latter instance, the frost-tender bulbs do not have to be dug up but just brought indoors during the winter. Blooming heavily from early summer through autumn, tuberous begonias beckon with their soothing perfume, gorgeous flowers, and stunning leaves. Not to mention they thrive in gloomy areas of the garden.

A potted begonia nestled in the deep recess of a small sous-sol window

Any horticultural specimen that can bush out in verdant lushness, whether in the sun or the shade, is a welcomed sight in the parched garden.

Beauty bush (it recently flowered) and lavender. 

Green is not the only garden coolant, so are blue and purple.

The fabulous heuchera Stormy Seas.  Purple stems carry delicate clusters of tiny, creamy flowers

Since Eli the Kitten is a feline, he has built-in cool which guides him into shady nooks.

A heuchera and candy tuft sandwich with Eli the Kitten filling

High temperatures can't make a dent in the exuberant green of the laurel hedge.

Peach and fig trees are in the background

Twenty-four cuttings were taken from the hedge about a week ago. Each one was dipped in rooting hormone, had their leaves clipped in half to prevent evaporation until roots are formed, and placed in incubators outside under the pergola to keep the humidity high and afford protection from the sun. In a few weeks, when new foliage shows, they will be planted in two nursery beds. Not this autumn, but next, they will increase the length of the existing hedge.

The vents are kept open at present because of the heat

Mostly unripe, but some blueberries are turning, well, blue.

Yes, I am depriving the house sparrows by using netting! But it's green and cool.

Even reds can appear cool if they are blue-reds.

Lacecap hydrangea keeping its cool in the shade

Under the boxelder and purple-leaved cherry plum trees, coolness abounds. The asters and Japanese anemones are leafing out well. In the fall, they will softly light up the shade with their blues and pinks. Until then, the asters are sporadically pinched back as to avoid staking.

Ivy growing up the tree trunks increases the green quotient 

David Austin's fragrant Falstaff climber thrives in the sun, but with its quartered, purple-red blooms, brings a touch of cool regardless. The best colours for roses in hot climes are the deeper tones as they tend not to fade as the lighter-coloured ones do.

Cool velvet!

À la prochaine!

Pizza with Tomatoes, Parmesan, Mozzarella, Mushrooms, and Sausage

Pizza here in France can be good though being made and presented differently than to what I was accustomed in New York City, as in having crème fraîche sometimes substituting for tomatoes and of course containing various French cheeses like Gruyère.   Excellent pizza is usually sold from a specially dedicated truck or a kiosk often kept in permanent locations.  However, some restaurant chains, whose names I will not mention, should be ashamed of themselves, or at least the people who pay to eat the kept-hot-under-lamps sawdust crusts/canned fillings should be.

I miss seeing industrious NYC pizzaiolos adorned with their colourful neck bandanas as they energetically flip large circles of pliable dough while dewdrops of artisanale sweat moisten their earnest faces all the while smiling at their sidewalk admirers through the gleaming, plate-glass shop windows.  You just have to go in and get some of what they are making.

My pizza though inspired by the NYC style, that is, it boasts of a very thin and tasty crust and abundant cheese, is of course, not baked in a professional oven.  My home oven will only fit 8 inch pizzas, so the slices are not the typical over-sized triangles of NYC pizza.  Many people aspire to be NYC natives, but unless you can walk gracefully down a busy city while delicately folding a huge triangle in half and eating it without pausing in your stride or dribbling any of its molten ingredients down the front of you, then this jury of one will hold her verdict.

Ingredients
Makes two 20 cm pizzas plus extra dough to be frozen for two more 20 cm pizzas.

• Flour, white, 425 grams
• Olive oil, extra virgin, 1 T
• Salt, preferably coarse, 1 tsp
• Yeast, active dry, 2 tsp
• sugar, 1.5 tsp 
• Water, warm, about 250 ml
• Tomatoes, plum, fresh or canned, about 6
• Mozarella, sliced thinly, approx 300 grams, about 22 slices,
• Parmesan, grated, 1/2 cup*
• Sausages, sweet Italian or Toulouse, removed from casings, sauteed, two
• Mushrooms, fresh or frozen, lightly sauteed in olive oil, 1 cup* (canned may be used, but they will taste less appetising;  frozen mushrooms can release a lot of liquid, so drain them and use their juices for broth)

* based on the American measure of 8 oz 

Equipment

• Pastry board or glass chopping board which will also be used as a peel to place safely the pizzas into a hot oven
• Silicon or very thick cloth oven mitts/potholder
• Resistant-to-high-temperature shallow oven pans or a pizza stone
• Oven-proof parchment paper
• Mixer with dough hook, though dough can be kneaded by hand
  

Making dough

The night before make the dough which will be left overnight in the fridge for a slow, cold rise to develop irresistibly tasty, naturally forming chemical compounds.  Put flour in the bowl of a bread mixer and make two wells, one for the yeast, sugar, and warm water and the other for salt and olive oil.

Mix for about 12 minutes until it is smooth and elastic.  Remove from hook and place in a lightly oiled bowl.  Flip the dough ball over so the oiled surface is on top.  Cover and keep it overnight in the fridge twelve hours as a minimum and twenty-four hours as the maximum.

Assembly

The next day, preheat oven and pans to 475 to 500 (as hot as you can bear working with such heat) degrees F.  Remove dough from the fridge and let warm to room temperature.

Lay out all the toppings.  Break up the cooked and cooled sausage meat into tiny pieces, using your fingers and separating the amount into two equal portions.  Put the sauteed mushrooms on a plate and separate into two equal portions.  Keep the sliced mozzarella and grated Parmesan close by, dividing them into two equal portions.  If tomatoes are fresh, remove skins by dipping briefly in boiling water and chop coarsely.  If canned, just chop them.  Divide the tomatoes into two equal portions.

Preparation of crusts

Weigh out into two equal balls.  Wrap one for the freezer for future pizzas and halve the remaining one.

Place the two smaller balls on their floured oven paper and flatten with your hands a bit.  Then with a finger depress all around the perimeter an inch in from the edge to allow for the crust.

As dough warms to room temperature, it will be easier to pull and press the balls into two round circles.

Finish stretching and pressing the two crusts till their diameters are roughly 20 cm, and the circle is about 1/8 to 1/4 thick.  I love this part of the process.  Perhaps it was my years of working with pottery clay and throwing pots that enables me to enjoy working with dough--my fingers became very sensitive to the thickness of clay walls as I would raise rotating cylinders on the wheel.  Pizza dough's stretchiness is pretty accommodating.  Your finger tips have loads of nerve endings, so let them tell you if the crust has been evenly stretched; just work out the thicker parts and fatten up the thinner parts as the dough is very elastic.  You could just press the dough into a round pan, but making a pizza circle free form is a lovely skill to have.

All the toppings are set out

Spread the tomatoes on both circles.  Lay the sliced mozzarella and sprinkle with the Parmesan.

These Mozzarella slice are too thick, so try to keep them much thinner

Distribute the sausage pieces and end with a layer of mushrooms.  Using a glass/wooden pastry board as a peel, slide the pie with its paper into the HOT pan/on the stone in the HOT oven.  Take great care in doing so, using adequate protection for your hands.

Bake for 6-7 minutes and then rotate the pans and bake for a further 6-7.  Remove the pans, sliding the pie and its paper on a cutting surface.  Since home ovens are way less hot than professional ones, the bottom will not have the characteristic spots of charring, but it should be a nice golden brown.  Using a pizza cutter or a sharp knife, make four slices.  The too thickly sliced Mozarella caused a cheese-lava spill--certainly a delicious and appetizing one--but still, causing a diminishing of its finger-food status.  And yes, I still fold these smaller triangles in half as a nostalgic gesture.

Any uneaten pizza can be frozen and be reheated either in a covered casserole in a 350 degrees F oven for about 30 to 45 minutes or in the microwave.  If still frozen, the pizza will take longer to get fully hot. And please, if you are one of those oddballs who enjoy congealed, tepid pizzas, I don't want to know about it!

With plentiful rain, the grass has grown tall and is too much a treat to be passed up by Dayo.

Autumn is the best time to plant garlic, though an early spring planting would work also.  I grew enough this season to be able to use my own stock. I am using the largest bulbs from the late July harvest.

The biggest heads are on the left

Per Margaret Roach at A Way to Garden,  if only the biggest garlic cloves are selected, then eventually all that will be harvested are jumbo heads of large cloves--artificial selection at work.  The cloves are separated and only the larger outer ones are planted.  The rest of course are happily eaten.  If in a pinch, it is possible as long as the garlic has not been treated to suppress sprouting, to use supermarket/farmer's market garlic for your planting.  If you are interested in growing your own or improving what you are already growing, make sure to check out the various relevant posts written by Margaret--she knows her stuff!

Loosen soil with a spade or fork, remove weeds, add compost, and rake level.  With the rake's end make furrows about 2 inches deep and 4-6 inches apart in a block bed.  Put cloves about 4-6 inches apart in each short row.  Cover the furrow with earth and tamp down.  Normally, I would thoroughly moisten the bed with a light spray, but the soil is still quite soppy from almost constant rain.  The rain is doing a good job preparing the garden for the winter as it is terribly stressful for plants to endure winter if their roots are dry.

Note the the few back rows are already tamped down

As the temperatures continue to fall, I am on the guard to protect any vulnerable plants and have potted up the chives.  They will spend the short winter on a sunny sous sol window.

There are several young sweet bay leaf (Laurus nobilis) shrubs in my garden.  Bay leaves are one of the ingredients comprising bouquet garni, an indispensable feature in French cuisine. The leaves are harvested from all around the plant as to prevent bare spots and set out to dry for about two-three days.  They are then stored in recycled spice bottles.  As their invigorating fragrance is one of my favourites, I often toss a nice handful into my hot bath.

There usually is one head of broccoli that bolts into flowering because of a surprise bout of warm weather.  Their soft-yellow is a welcomed addition to the typically sombre autumnal palette.

This Abelia with its lovely arching branches is about thirteen years old and spent most of its life in a small pot on the balcony of our Grenoble apartment.  It is very happy to be in real soil and to be near bees that love its honey fragrance and nectar, hence its name. It is a wonderful, semi-evergreen bush for the garden as it holds visual interest all year round.  It sparkly white flowers are mostly gone and in their place are red sepals.

À la prochaine!

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Improvements on my basic pizza recipe