The Fink Farm Dirt

My first gardening experiences were in northeastern Oklahoma. There, the gardening season ended when the tomatoes quit producing. By then, there was a nip in the air. The zinnias were stained brown and crispy. The nasturtiums were shriveled and starting to be hidden by falling leaves. Crisp, juicy apples were filling the bins at the local grocery and it wasn't pleasant to hang around outdoors unless you were moving -- fast. My parents not being natural gardeners, we never did much seasonal clean up either. My parents were great believers in letting the winter snows and spring rains do the work of beating down the dead stalks. Then in the spring, you could start digging and turning the old under to make room for the new. So now, living in California where winter is an abstract concept, I'm ignorant about winter planting. I've heard of winter wheat, but have no inclination to plant Fink Farm with wheat. Cleared for winter planting We got the garden cleared down ...

In September and early October, gardening waned. The tomato plants fell to disease and gravity. The lettuce bolted. The deformed carrots had been pulled. The chives were wilting in the heat and the drought. The marigolds were more deadheads than blooms.  It was the end of the road for the garden. We'd kept up a steady two hours of work a week in our small plot. But once the tomato plants lost the fight, there really wasn't much to do but clean up. Given that we'd planned a road trip for mid-October, we put everything on hold until this week. We pulled out the remaining tomato plant tangled in its cage.  We picked up all the tomatoes we could find in the mulch.  We'll have volunteers next summer without a doubt, but we did what we could to limit that.  We pulled out the old salad greens, but there's signs of self-seeding.  Looks like we may have more arugula.