Post last updated: August 13th, 2018
Four white amaryllis with red stripes blooming at once on one stalk. I gotta save seeds from this. It would be nice to have more blooms with this color combination.
This is 2012’s first squash, Zephyr F1, compliments of a seed starting class with the Extension Agent.
I am providing this picture of your average tomato bloom. I put my grubby little hand behind it for perspective. You will agree that these blooms are average in size for a tomato, right? Okay, on to the next photo.
Would you look at the SIZE of this Sweet Gold tomato bloom? The Wild Fred tomato looks like it’s going to have a large bloom, too. In all my years of off-and-on-again gardening, I have never seen tomato blooms of this size. To be frank, it boggles my mind. Both seeds came from the Extension Agent’s seed starting class in January. You reckon the Extension Agent is giving us mutant tomato seeds? It’s okay, of course, because the mutant plants are often the most fun.
Look at these sweet taters that weren’t supposed to grow because I have no luck with them. Maybe it’s because these came from South Carolina? You’ll recall that I said in the Veggie Garden Tour that if they did grow in this miniature version of a laundry hamper, a fight would break out. Well, honey, that fight done broke out. Some of the leaves are poking through the sides of the hamper like they gasping for breath. Doggone it, this forced me to find a plot of ground for them. I put them across the yard in the tater bed. To my surprise, one of the holes I dug featured a chicken-sized egg that oozed yolk when my trowel broke the shell. Let me tell you, I was glad I was alone when I found that egg. Had Poppie been around, or even Evie, both of whom question my intelligence, it would not have been good. Poppie would have turned away shaking his head. Evie would have asked, “Fool, did you think you could plant an egg and grow a chicken?” Then she would have added it to her repertoire of stories she tells about me, most of which are greatly exaggerated if not downright fabrications. I swear I did not plant an egg.
This is the asparagus that can’t be grown in Florida according to the University of Florida. One of my readers was the first to clue me into this fact. I might not be able to grow asparagus to eat but I can sure grow asparagus fern. This is how my asparagus looks three weeks after planting a dozen or so crowns. Another dozen of the seeds are coming up along the inside edges of the asparagus box. They are about 2 or 3 inches tall. I don’t really care if I don’t get edible asparagus. I didn’t want to eat ‘em, anyway, but this fern is delicate and pretty. Any idea what the bloom-like things are?