August beauty

My gardens are rather drab in August.  The annuals are flagging as they reach the end of their growing cycle, the summer veggies are winding down their production, and the perennials are wilting in the intense heat and humidity that characterizes our August weather.

However, tucked in next to the compost heap, there is one shrub that shines in August, the August Beauty gardenia bush. 

The original plan was that gardenias would function as foundation plants in the partial shade on the west side of my back deck.  This plan was a flaming disaster; the gardenias got sick, infested with bugs and covered in sooty mold.  Of the three shrubs I planted, one died almost immediately and the other two died back to spikey sticks.  I gave one of them to a friend with a fabulous shade garden and I planted the other next to the compost heap and told it to grow or die on its own.

Five years later, my beautiful gardenia shrub is thriving, producing lovely fragrant blooms throughout the month of August.  There is no disease, no bugs and no sooty mold.  Apparently this August beauty just wanted to live by a nutritious compost heap, bringing joy to my backyard.

Every body at our house loves cream peas

We have a mixed marriage; while I'm from the far north (Minnesota), my precious husband, Bob, is from the deep south (north Florida).  Food and cooking styles from these two regions are vastly different so over the years we have had some interesting discussions about what we are going to eat and how it will be prepared.

One southern food that no one at our house argues about(I mean, discusses) is southern field peas.  Everyone loves field peas--they are easy to grow and simple to prepare.  Our favorite variety is the cream pea. 

The humans at our house love them a little green, and simmered gently with some bacon crumbles thrown in.

Mordecai, the sulcata tortoise (look him up on Facebook--he has is own page) loves the pods, but is always looking for the pea I might have missed while shelling them.

This year, there is another body that has developed a taste for fresh cream peas.  Whenever I harvest the peas, I always find several pods that have been split neatly with every single pea devoured.   Only a bird could reach some of these pods without cutting them down or disturbing the vines in any way.  The pea patch is within sight of my kitchen window but I have been unable to observe the culprit at work.  I suspect a pair of rufous-sided towhees that took up residence in our backyard this spring.  I caught them raiding the blueberry bushes in June so I know they love berries and are undeterred by my typical bird repelling activities. 

At the end of the season, we will all stop eating the cream peas (except the birds) to allow some pods to go to seed so that next spring we can grow our favorite southern vegetable once again.

Stuff happens

Everyone has experienced this; while sacrificially performing a good deed, one small bump escalates into a disaster which you feel compelled to correct at even more sacrifice on your part.

My dear husband contributes to our gardens by keeping the green spaces mowed, a project that requires him to work outdoors (not his favorite location) at some of the hottest and most humid days of the year.   During one of these miserable afternoon good deeds, the lawn mower gently bumped into the bird feeder pole.  Much to his horror, Bob watched as the pole slowly swayed and fell, splintering the bird feeder, and shattering the squirrel baffle attached to it.

The bird feeder had been his Mothers Day gift to me 15 years ago and over the years, the entire family had enjoyed observing the birds who frequented it for sunflower seeds.  Within 24 hours of its demise, we knew that we had to replace it. 

Thanks to internet shopping, the new pole, feeder, and baffle were soon delivered to our front door.  Our new feeder resembles a chapel and holds twice as much seed so I won't have to refill it as often. We are good for another 15 years of bird watching in our backyard. 

Sometimes the "stuff" that happens in our lives is really an opportunity to move forward to something even better than what we thought we had to have.