We’ve been dashing around in between raindrops trying to get fall stuff accomplished. No fun when it’s in the forties and raining continually. (Will says “welcome to Washington” as it’s what he hated when he lived on the West Coast.) Our friends from the Watering Can came out and helped us harvest pumpkins and squash from the North garden. They ended up with a whole van full and we got wet feet. Luckily, it wasn’t raining when we were picking them but it sure had before. Did I mention the North garden is white clay based? Adding manure to it sure helped, but we’ve got a few more years before it gets less pottery-clay-like.
We also harvested all the pumpkins and squash from the Sand garden as it was supposed to frost, and frost can sure damage these crops. We especially love the Iran pumpkins, from which we’ll harvest plenty of seed. We grew a few last year and found them wonderfully productive as well as beautiful and tasty. They made a crop even after the cows got into the North garden and ate most everything. (This year we fortified the electric fence around the 6-foot welded wire fence and no cows.) Last night I used the tomatoes I’d harvested seed from to make chunky tomato sauce. It was a good use of the tomatoes and helped use up some of the great green sweet peppers we still have out in the hoop house. As they’re forecasting temps in the high twenties Friday night, we’re trying to wrap up the tomato seed harvest as well as any other sensitive crops left out. Will picked all of our melons and we’ve been busy harvesting seed from those which were pure. (Darn; we have to eat those melons!) Oh my, but they taste great and are so juicy! Who would have thought we could find muskmelons and watermelons which would ripen well in Northern Minnesota without pampering?
Will’s still hauling home our big round bales and this constant rain has made it a challenge as the field he has left has a ditch, some low spots to cross, and a big hill. The hay transport is starting to cut into the field when loaded; we hope he can get the rest of the bales before it gets worse. Gotta run — those peppers are calling me. — Jackie