Garden Porn

Sorry friends who are bored with green things and growth (what? I don't understand?), but it's that time of year again. The time where there will be posts upon posts of sleazy garden porn.

So let's get to it.


I planted you last year and you stayed through the winter and now you are exploding with about 20 budding stems. Hot pink and heady.


A question: What should I do with this rhubarb? It's starting to flower (well, past starting, obviously). Mom, Grandma, Aunt Kathy, ColdH20? Should I cut this head off? Is it going to impede leaf production? Advise, please? I only recently read that rhubarb is hecka hard to grow in our climate. Not enough chill. Yet another reason to turn up noses at the Bay Area (that and the lilac issue).



I am in love with this dress. It has pockets. That big rusty tool was used to pulverize the concrete where my easter egg radishes are now planted. Nothing makes you feel cool like wielding a 20-pound iron rod against concrete. Just make sure to wear gloves.



And dear rhubarb chard, you are looking hella sweet. Saute you up with some pasta and roasted red beets and shitakes.


Fuzzy rose. You are not so good for the long stem but you still make me swoon when I shove my face against yours.


Oh, quickly curling head of cabbage. So spritely.


Calendula, known for its healing properties, has been made into a tea with your bedfellow-to-the-left mint. I think it's healing my mouth wound.


Radish radish radish. You come in white and pink and ruby in the wee garden row.


Damn this picture for refusing to go vertical. Anyway, my father's favorite flowers, gladiolas, planted in dresser drawer and terra cotta and army shell case (thank you Ozan).


Onions with serpentine heads abudding. Fish who should be on the job eating up snails, but who so far has failed utterly. Get to work, Fish!