Radishes and Carrots as Far as the Eye Can See

Taking photographs of vegetables is good clean fun.

Small radishes and either a turnip or a mutant radish.
Already we are losing track of what we planted.

Baby carrots just picked.




Today is my birthday. Rather than lament that I have turned 50, I thought I would show my face.  After all, my little carrots and radishes are imperfect, bruised, gnawed at by gnats (sorry I could not resist) and I love them all the same.

So here is to healthy self love: moi at 50.  PS: The French accent is real.

Vegetable Nerd

It is now April. I have started with the drip system. It's a little bit like playing with Legos but with more cursing.

Everything is looking gorgeous and healthy. Honestly, beyond my wildest dream.  My husband is not surprised; he's had gardens before. But I'm a vegetable garden virgin. Everything knocks my socks off.



Did you know that Eggplants do not go on trees? Yeah, neither did I.



Radishes and beets get their close up.



Everything is humming along. Also, starting to spread dangerously.



Oh, and we have grapes now. An ugly part of the hill is now home to 2 grape plants that we planted the year before and that had sputtered and looked dead until now!



I have become the kind of person who takes close up boudoir-style shots of her vegetable seedlings.

Provence Meets Mid-Century Ranch Style

I have not shown you the front yard yet. I love it. It's Provence meets Los Angeles. Or at least that's the idea I was trying to achieve.

Although it pains me to put ugly things on this blog, this was the before:

1959 ranch style architecture.  Designed by Charles Dubois

If you are curious about Mid-Century, Ranch-Style California architecture, here is what the Los Angeles Conservancy has to say about my neighborhood: "It is a wonderfully intact neighborhood that effortlessly conveys its postwar suburban feel into the present day."

Yes, but an acquired tasted. We bought it before we knew it was fashionable.

I could not WAIT to smother this effortless postwar gem with plants.

Vegetable Garden: Lessons and Revelations

Although we still don't know if the plan works and if we'll end up with a harvest of any kind, my husband and I found ourselves constantly in the garden. The backyard was a lawn; it was mostly used as a latrine for the dog.  The kids were too old to play outside. Essentially the backyard was unused and a drain on resources. We used too much water and paid a disgruntled gardener to mow.  Once a week, I would come in with a bag and shovel and pick up dog poop before he could mow.  So yes, it was not fun.

Now it is FUN with capital letters.

Experimenting with mulch. I'm using oak leaves from the backyard.

First tomato ever! First of MANY

First strawberries. They will eventually cover the entire beds.

Every morning, the first thing we do is go around the yard and admire our new children. They are cute! My husband is always puttering in it, thinning carrots or adding support for peas or tomatoes. We start noticing birds and bees. Were they there before but we did not know because we hardly went outside? Or are they attracted to the garden now?

Vegetable Garden: What Have We Done?!

Update from the vegetable garden. Still no drip system, but I don't care. Why did I ever think we needed one? It's march and cool out. I have conveniently forgotten that in the Valley (as in Los Angeles San Fernando Valley) summer temperature can reach over 110 degrees. But a mild form of amnesia compounded with winter lethargy has replaced my initial energy. I do better with super physical jobs than tedious ones where I have to learn something.

Planting all veggies at once, damning caution and restraint to the wind.

Meanwhile, the vegetables (and my husband), unlike me, got the memo: Spring has sprung.

 premature tomatoisation.

Carrot seedlings, ponions and asparagus in the back. Or as we say in French "n'importe quoi"

Vegetable mashup 

Here you can see our technique: vegetables are planted without rhyme or reason and with no concern whatsoever for size at maturity or the fact that the beds are too deep to be reached in the center.

Peas so tender and cute

Me, possibly still in denial but starting to realize that things are growing fast and are planted too closely. 

Also, that I better get my s%#t together re: the drip system.

To Drip or Not to Drip: That Is the Question.

Planting a vegetable garden in a desert without using water (or very little of it).

That was the challenge.  My husband and I felt differently about it.  He figured that it's okay to use water if it's for growing food. I wanted to prove to the world and to myself that growing food could conserve water. So, I created a very accurate drip system.

But I did not created it fast enough! While I was busy procrastinating learning about how to install a drip system in vegetable beds with odd shapes and no angles, my husband was busy planting.

The cat, demonstrating the art of relaxation also known as cat butter.

View from above. The vegetables are coming out but the drip system is still only happening in my imagination.

An interesting things happened. As soon as we disconnected the sprinkler system, the bougainvillea began to explode. Today it goes well above the roof.

The Bougainvillea keeps on giving

Goodbye, Lawn. Hello, Wood Chips and Drought Tolerant Plants.

From that point on, I became determined to get rid of all the grass. I had a good workout applying newspaper, filling wheelbarrows, emptying their fragrant wood-chippy contents onto my feet.  We used medium-sized chips. Any smaller and the chips would have flown all over the place. Any larger and it would have been kind of clunky.

Two years later, only the Salvia and Westringa have become enormous. The Flax and Licorice died.

I wanted drought tolerant plants that would attract bees where we did not plant vegetables. To be honest, I was not convinced the vegetable beds would look that good in the winter and I wanted pretty.

Applying newspaper over the lawn followed by wood chips. The lawn (and weeds) forever disappeared.

Wood chips are soft underfoot and make a lovely, fragrant ground cover. Over time, it decomposes and adds organic matter.