Thursday, October 17, 2013

First frost, lots of squash, last tomatoes, and nasturtiums take over!

According to local lore (and the nearby Taunton averages as recorded by UMass) my first frost happens on October 15th or thereabouts.  My first frost of 2013 was overnight between the 13th and 14th --very close to average, despite all the weather changes of the last few years.
It was a mild frost, and only nipped the lushest leaves of my trombone squash:


Meanwhile the production of more squash continued unabated:



I've had several 'free squash' days at work, and the half dozen curved fruit I brought each time have gone fast.  At home we are all sick of squash.  Well, that's not true-- Sol (my dog)  still eagerly eats it steamed al dente.

Unlike squash, every tomato is loved around here, and today we had a moment of silence when I ate the last one. Here's a pic of the last bowl of tomatoes -- my husband Tom wanted me to have them all, but I wouldn't let him, so we split them and each savored every bite. I wanted to start singing Guy Clark's 'Home Grown Tomatoes', but I can't carry a tune, so I didn't.


I have been astonished with the Nasturtiums in the kitchen garden this year.  My  Nasturtiums  are usually either all leaves because they got too much fertilizer or scraggly and full of flowers because they got too little.
This fall they are all lush and green (except for variegated 'Alaska') and full of flowers. As I have harvested the beds I've let the nasturtiums sprawl across the the garden, much to the delight of my faithful bumblebees and some actual honeybees that have appeared in the last couple of weeks.  I am so happy to see the honeybees that I talk to them like old friends, saying 'hi sweety, enjoy those flowers' and so on.
Here's some self seeded 'Alaska', spreading out in the former Butternut squash bed:


Here's a mix of self seeded hybrids and some 'Jewel' I planted this year, along with reseeded Nicotiana:



And the frost didn't reach my 'Heavenly Blue' morning glories, which are cascading over the fence behind my asparagus bed: