Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

indian summer and back again (and 5 friday photos)

An especially lush few months in Oklahoma made the end of August feel like June. The pond was high and glassy, the gardens verdant, almost tropical. All the way through Labor Day we luxuriated in one gorgeous week after another, scooping up a cool, mild daybreak here and there, just for extra credit.

Then we noticed the zinnias and gomphrena fading a little and the basil going to seed, even as the deep green leaves grew as big as your hand. The pond stayed high, but the goat head stickers finally made their unhappy appearance. (They were several weeks late, so we will try not to complain, but this is a sure sign of the end of the salad days.) We eventually halted daily pool maintenance and braced ourselves for the inevitable sight of that 20,000-gallon green lagoon. We knew fall was creeping up, but the afternoons stayed so humid. Pumpkin spice erupted on the scene, too. It was a mixed-up couple of weeks.

I was on the verge of making peace with the season change from summer to fall when the season changed again, back to a veritable heat wave. The wildflower meadows burst again with pollen. Overnight the pepper plants grew heavy with red, green, and purple treasures. The horses grazed lazily with sweaty bellies and swooshing tails. The afternoons were noisy with cicadas, and I was into it. I had even made peace with the grasshoppers, for chewing up my cannas.

 

When my husband noticed a “peak hours” electricity price event and the weather station said we could expect another heat wave, he cleaned the pool with feverish delight. I bought the last watermelon still languishing at the store, and we rallied for at least a few more days of summer. In late September.

Carpeing the diems, you know?

Well, we enjoyed two more swims this past week, and that watermelon was pure, sugary heaven. I made sure to feed the rinds to the horses slowly, knowing it would be many months before another such offering. I saved two big hunks for filling with seed for Shoulder Chicken. We made eye contact, and she understood the importance of this treat.

And now, our second summer is over. Nobody who has lived in Oklahoma very long is really surprised. The temperatures can swing from season to season effortlessly. We just take each week as it comes. Carpeing the diems to the best of our abilities and imaginations.

Today the skies slid opened and poured out all the promised floodwaters. The temperature at daybreak (72 degrees) was probably the warmest we will see for a while. And I am drinking coffee in the afternoon. This never happens when it’s hot outside. Yesterday I added some fall plants to my containers outside and some Halloween fun to a few corners of the house inside. We bought ingredients to bake for an upcoming pie contest in the City. And our bookshelves are loaded with good reading for when it’s too wet to enjoy the outdoors.

Summer 2018 was beautiful, satisfying, and pleasure-filled. We miss it already. I also learned a lot and felt like the work here was well done. But Autumn will bring her own smorgasbord of pleasures and work worth doing. I’m eager to sink into it all. 

“Slow down, you move too fast.”
Simon & Garfunkel
XOXOXOXO

 

Gardening by the Moon

   Have you ever explored this? It is certainly not a new idea, but we don’t hear much about when to plant compared to the suggestions we get on what to plant. I think that’s basic marketing. In fact, I think that the nursery producers don’t care so much whether our first plants even survive, because we will just buy more. But don’t listen to me; I’m a bit cynical. 
   Okay, back to topic. Observing the phases of the moon to plan a garden and all of its attached jobs is a practice that has been around for hundreds of years and in many varied cultures. This year at the Lazy W, we’re joining the party. The moon party. There could be howling.
   Here is what I know about lunar agri-lore so far. I made that last word up.
   Basically, the idea is to simply cooperate with the energy of the moon, to follow the swells and swoops of whatever hold she has over our blue little rock and maximize that power. The full lunar cycle is 28 days (sound familiar, ladies?) but those days are not all equal. 
  • The waxing moon is increasing in fullness and brilliance, starting after the New Moon (when it looks darkest) and climbing up to the Full Moon. Remember this by thinking of the expression “She waxes poetic,” which suggests that her poetry is increasing.
  • The waning moon is gradually diminishing, starting the day after the Full Moon (when it is brightest) and turning over again at the next New Moon. Pretty simple. 

 

   If you don’t know the exact dates of the moon phases in your part of the world, it’s super easy to find. I always look up the details at the Farmers’ Almanac website. This is good information to scribble down on your planners, you guys. Check it out.
Hey, incidentally, the site where this chart originates
is all about telling time by the moon! Crazy.
   Okay, once you have a grip on when the moon is brightest (strongest pull on Earth) and when it is weakest,  you just need to know how to apply that knowledge in your garden. Most of the folklore I’ve read says that the waxing moon is fertile, alive, creative, life giving. Makes sense to me. The waning moon is barren, dormant, even dead. So the plainest possible approach is to divide your garden chores accordingly. Which of your tasks are related to growth and which are related to dormancy or collection. This also applies to above ground and below ground. Examples, anyone?
  • Plant above ground crops during the light of the moon.
  • Plant below ground crops during the dark of the moon.
  • Make transplants and graft tree branches during the waxing moon, when it is vital and life giving.
  • Perform soil cultivation and remove weeds during the dark of the moon, when the moon is barren, so the unwanted seeds don’t take purchase again.
   There is so much more information out there, gardening friends. I urge you to spend some of your catalog-browsing time this winter learning more about when to do things in cooperation with the moon. 
   Do you know what else this reinforces? The lovely idea that we don’t need to do it all on one day. We can take our time a little bit, divide and conquer, focus and soothe ourselves into the gradual evolution of a really beautiful garden.
Pinned Image
This perfectly dreamy vegetable garden in Connecticut
was in one of my Country Living magazines a few years ago.
Now it all the heck over Pinterest.
Behold its lush mellowness and majesty.
What do you bet the gardener cooperated with the moon?
   So… happy catalogging, friends. Happy dreaming. Happy planning. Happy learning. There is much to learn, after all, and many dreams that are ready to come true.
Waxing Green & Sadness Waning,
xoxoxoxo