I never really understood the interest in growing monster vegetables to see how big they can get. To me, the point of vegetable growing is to eat the things. But more often than not once a vegetable reaches gigantic proportions it is no longer edible.
But perhaps it’s akin to my fascination with sunflowers. I have grown short, bouquet-worthy sunflowers. I have grown stunning, nearly black sunflowers. I have grown dainty sunflowers. But what I really adore is a colossal sunflower. Towering sunflowers. The kind of sunflowers that makes visitors stop and say, “Is that real?”
Until this year the tallest sunflowers I have grown were Mammoth. They grew to about 8 or 9 feet, towering over the rest of the garden.
But this year I grew Titans—the biggest yet. I measured them this morning at 12 feet tall.
Visitors ask me if they are staked because it seems so improbable that a flower on a single stem that tall could stand up without assistance. But the stalks are nearly as round as my wrist, so they are standing tall all on their own.
Now, what’s bigger than a Titan?
Robin
One of the real dilemmas for me as a gardener is that I want to travel and visit gardens during the summer—but I also want to be home working in my own garden. So unless work carries me to a place where I can visit gardens in my down time, I’m on an official vacation or a garden is fairly close by, it’s hard to pry me away from home to go garden hopping.
But the Garden Bloggers Buffa10 was an event I wouldn’t miss. This is the third year that garden bloggers have staged a meet-up, organized and hosted by volunteer garden bloggers. The Austin, Texas, gardeners kicked off the idea and spread out a wonderful welcome mat. Gardeners in Chicago hosted last year. This year Elizabeth Licata (Gardening While Intoxicated and Garden Rant) and Jim Charlier (Art of Gardening) put together four days of fabulousness in Buffalo. I had heard from Elizabeth about the hotbed of gardening activity in Buffalo, but I had no idea Buffalo was such a charming city.
As you can see, we were able to wander into the private sanctuaries of Buffalo homeowners, many of whom had gussied up their yards in preparation for Garden Walk Buffalo. Most of the gardens we visited are small, lush gardens in cozy neighborhoods.
Frankly, I found myself drooling over the tidy homes, well-maintained gardens and the idea that it was all so compact and bountiful.
These gardeners have invested some time and love in creating their outdoor havens.
These were not just show houses though. It was clear that people lived in and enjoyed these gardens. There were pets, areas for dining, tools and whimsical artwork.
If you’re a garden blogger—or are looking for another reason to become one—this event should convince you that there are some definite perks to sharing your garden stories. What you don’t see here, but can see from many of my fellow bloggers’ blogs, is the great group of people who came together for the event. Many of us are old friends from previous years. We were happy to add new friends to our crowd. It was a beautiful and bountiful event on many levels.
Robin
Every since I heard that my local friend Kirsti has successfully grown and harvested as many as 12 artichokes a season in her small garden, I’ve been having serious artichoke envy.
For several years in my younger days I lived in California not so far from Castroville, a major hub of artichoke activity. Before I moved from east to west I had never before even tasted an artichoke. But in California you can’t go to a party or a restaurant without being offered some sort of appetizer, soup, entree or dip whose main ingredient is artichoke.
Faced with a steamed artichoke for the first time I was confused and a bit intimidated. How are you supposed to eat this baby?
The natives and seasoned immigrants quickly showed me how to peel off the outer leaves, dip them into a proffered sauce and gently nibble away or scrape the tender bottom part of the leaf with my bottom teeth. Once you’ve eaten all the leaves and remove the hairy, choke-y innards (if they’re still there) you remove the heart at the bottom, slice it up and eat that too. Oh heaven.
The only thing better is to have all that work done for you and mixed into a dip or soup or some such deliciousness that undoubtedly has unspeakable numbers of calories and a high percentage of fat. Oh, those were the days when those thoughts never even crossed my mind. *sigh*
Well, earlier this spring my artichoke envy was reaching frantic heights when I couldn’t locate any starters and was thinking I would have to start the whole process—a bit late—from seed.
Isn’t it appropriate that my friend Mary Ann from Gardens of the Wild Wild West, oh roper of cattle and wearer of cowboy boots, should come riding to my rescue? She sent me seven wonderful little plants all the way from Boise, Idaho, to plant in my garden.
I treasure these plants and fret over them. I can’t let Mary Ann (some of us call her Ida) down!
Here’s my first baby artichoke. I don’t know what’s going on with the other six plants, but one little artichoke plant has decided to encourage my efforts by pushing out a little globe about the size of a large marble.
Artichoke envy satisfied. Almost.
Robin
