Our garden is doing surprisingly well this summer, considering I am all thumbs and none of them are particularly green. Down in the main garden, as I’ve mentioned an annoying number of times, we have the big crops of tomatoes, carrots, radishes, corn, leeks, pumpkin, etc. Along one fence and in a patch way in the back there are several varieties of potatoes. We also have a deck with planter boxes, designed to hold pretty flowers and decorative foliage. Bah with the ornamentals, I say. This year, we’re growing food up on the porch.
In the shadiest boxes, I’ve got lettuces and spinach. There’s one sunny box with basil and another with herbs. One box is under the eaves and is empty, since nothing grows there, anyway (and since the cat prefers to lie in it on hot days, smooshing any and all vegetation). The other box belongs to the kids.
They planted carrots and a bean plant in their “garden” earlier this spring. I thoughtfully gave them seeds for Nantes Half-Long carrots, lest any regular-length ones get stunted when they hit the wood bottom. And the carrots are exciting, to be sure; their lacy tops blow gently in the breeze and tickle little hands.
But it’s the bean plant that’s been the draw. Of course, our bean stalk is going to grow all the way to the sky so that we can climb up it and find out where Jack went. In the meantime, though, it’s putting out these flowers that look like little beans (or kidneys, I’m not sure which). They just appeared a couple of days ago.
Every morning, the girls rush to the back door and look to see what their bean plant is doing. They think these red things are funny.
I just want it noted for the record that I was up at sunrise this morning. Now, THAT is funny.
Having never grown anything but mold bean plants before, I’m assuming this funny red thing will be a flower, and that the beans will appear magically at some later date. This particular variety is called “Scarlet Runner”, and it produces heavily if you keep the plant well-picked. Or, so they tell me. What would I know? I’m lucky to know this is a bean plant, and not a zucchini.
Now, to figure out what to do with all those beans when they finally arrive. I’m the only one in the house who will actually eat them.