Big and blooming

A week away in midsummer is always a fraught decision for a gardener. Even though I thought clear instructions were left, and even though I believe my family members to be capable of paying attention, the truth is no one cares about the garden like the gardener. Everyone works hard at their own stuff, but not everyone wants to work hard in the garden if I'm not here to encourage that.

Well, that's not completely true. I came home from a truly restorative week of camping to find that one bunch of girls was just knocking themselves out in the yard:

So I'll ignore the picked too soon winter squash, the overgrown zucchini, which all found happy homes anyway, and the not-quite-done chores and remember that the bees worked every single day while I was away. Head down in sunflowers:

Rolling about wantonly in the poppies -- apparently since they're Papaver somniferum I can't legally grow them. Let's blame the bees:


And yes, that is my smallish, peasant-shaped hand behind the Anna apple there. It was crunchy and not overgrown even at that ridiculous size, believe it or not. I forgot to weigh it but it had to be at least half a pound. The rats had been knocking apples down and just biting bits of them, but we gathered up what was salvageable and one of the girls had applesauce for lunch at the park.


All the volunteer tomatoes appear to be cherries of some relation to the Sungolds I grow. I'm ripping them out at will, but still leaving some to ripen. With the cool, cool summers here, that may be the only way to get any ripe tomatoes. I don't hold the bees responsible for this pollination, since tomatoes are generally self-pollinated, but it's all flower to fruit here in summer.


One junior gardener enchants with her devotion to beauty. When I'm overly product-minded, it's proper to remember not bread alone, not at all.


(I did, actually, talk to her after the video too!)