Our neighbors in Pixley fall into three camps — those who are happy to live in the city, those who wish they could move back to the country, and those who moved here from a Bigger City and can’t figure out what the first two camps are thinking. As the population of Pixley is only slightly larger than that of the apartment complex I lived in before the move, Pixley is country — its elevated status as the county seat notwithstanding.
I am, at heart, a country girl. I never get tired of fields and forests, damp clay roads, the sounds of birds in the day and frogs at night, or a night sky full of stars. My parents, being true country people in the Depression, wanted nothing to do with that life as adults and wanted to spare their children from it. That is sad. Our little piece of property is a bit of heaven to me.
And so I give you our Farm Report:
The satsumas are blooming, and the Meyer lemon is just forming blossoms, but the ruby red grapefruit blossoms smell the sweetest. We’re going to have to remove all the little fruits that are forming to allow the trees to put their energy into growth and not production. Sad. Maybe next year we can allow a few to grow.
The fig is putting out all sorts of new growth. It was the last to put out leaves, but it is making up for lost time. We have blackberries forming now and a bunch of blueberries. Those can stay — assuming we can beat the birds to them. The neighborhood cats may finally earn their keep.
The potatoes are growing wonderfully. I gave them a little “safe” bug spray — something has been chewing on the leaves. Southern peas and pole beans are growing like … beans! The sweet onions and shallots look good, but I’ve never grown them or potatoes before, so I don’t know what to expect.
Around the house, about 1/3 of the State Fair zinnias we planted from seed have started to grow. One of the crocosmia bulbs is beginning to sprout. Two of the lily bulbs I planted are sprouting, and the dinnerplate dahlias are doing wonderfully. There are blossoms forming on the gardenias. I can’t wait for all the flowers to bloom, We need to get rid of the wisteria that is taking hold in our azaleas, but I may keep a cutting or two in pots. It’s an invasive little monster, but I love it when it blooms. My Taller Half (MTH) fondly remembers an encounter decades ago with wisteria in full bloom, planted outside the Smithsonian Museum, creating a Maxfield Parrish-tinged moment that feeds his soul still today.
I found three frogs hiding in the compost bin. They got a ride to the nearest azalea bush. The bird feeder is never empty of birds during the day, mostly cardinals and finches with the occasional dove cleaning up underneath. We have to give them credit for bravery with all the cats in the vicinity, but we do try to eliminate hiding spaces near the feeder so they aren’t caught unaware.
No report on “the back forty” — we can’t get through the overgrowth. One of these days…
That’s it from our little 3/4 acre of heaven.