Well, the last of the stuff that needed to come in before tonight is done – at least as much as possible. The girls and I put bottles with warm water under the eggplants in the grow bag (the only ones fruiting) and, since they were right there, with the sweet potatoes, too. The eggplant and one grow bag with sweet potato got covered, but the sheet wasn’t big enough to cover the other two grow bags. The apple gourd also got bottles of warm water placed beside them, but we could only cover two of the three plants, so we covered the two biggest ones. As I write this, we are down to 9C/48F, and it’s supposed to keep dropping until we reach 1C/34F at about 7am. Between 6 – 8 am tends to consistently be the coldest time of day.
While I was harvesting earlier, I went ahead and grabbed a bunch of the Latte sweet corn, too. I don’t think they are quite at their peak, but I think they’re about as good as we’re going to get. There are still cobs on the stalks that were pretty small, so I left them be.
With the summer squash, I grabbed all the little – but not too little – patty pans, and the last of the zucchini.
In the above photo, the six pumpkins across the top are the Baby Pam pumpkins. The others are all hulless seed pumpkins. On the far left are four Styrian, in the middle are six Lady Godiva, and on the right are two Kakai. Tucked in with the patty pans are two Boston Marrow. There are so many little Boston Marrow squash forming, but they are just too small and have no chance of ripening after being picked. I’m not even sure Boston Marrow does continue to ripen after being picked!
The pumpkins are now all set up in the sun room. We cleared a shelf in the window, and all but one of them fit in there. The last one joined the onions on the screen. I think it should still get enough light there.
The hulless seed pumpkins are grown just for their seed, not their flesh. The flesh is probably edible, but there would be less of it than for an eating pumpkin. I will give them time before we crack any open to see what the seeds are like. At least we do have the one tiny, fully ripe kakai pumpkin harvested earlier that we could try any time we feel like it.
We planted so many different winter squash, and it was such a horrible year, I’m thankful we have as much as we do. Hopefully, next year, we will have better growing conditions. I made the mistake of calling my mother before I started this post, and talking about our garden. I mentioned that our beets did not do well this year. She started lecturing me on how to grow beets, and how they need to have the soil loosened around them, etc. I told her I knew how to grow beets (this is not our first year growing them!); they just didn’t do well this year. We didn’t even get greens worth eating. My mother then launched into how she always had such big beets, and always had such a wonderful garden (this after she’d mentioned to be before, that some years things just didn’t work) and how she only grew the “basics” and everything was just so wonderful – and the reason my beets failed was because I don’t garden like she did, and that I shouldn’t be gardening “from a book”. Whatever that means. I reminded her that I tested the soil and it is depleted. We don’t have good soil here anymore. She got sarcastic about that, and basically made it like my not having a perfect garden like she did was because I’m not doing things her way. As she got increasingly cruel about it, I called her out on it. I told her that just because she can’t understand something like soil science – which she doesn’t need to – that didn’t make it okay for her to be cruel to me over something she knows nothing about. Nor would I put up with being treated like that. I even asked her, why couldn’t she try being kind for a change? Maybe say something like “I’m sorry to hear you’re having problems”, instead of basically saying “I’m better than you.” She went dead silent, so I changed the subject, and the rest of the conversation went okay. Then she cut the call short because she saw the time, and her program on TV was started, so she had to go.
My mother is pretty open on what her priorities are. 😕
Ah, well. It is what it is. I’m just so thankful she is no longer our “landlord”, and that my brother now owns the property. There was a point, before the title was transferred, that we briefly but seriously considered moving out because of her.
Funny how something as ordinary as gardening can bring out the worst in her, though.
The weird thing is, when I spoke to my brother after he’d visited her to talk about the roofing estimates, apparently my mother had lots of positive things to say about how well we’re taking care of things here.
I guess that doesn’t include the garden! 😄
Well, I guess I should go see what I can do about that corn! 😊
4 thoughts on “Our 2022 garden: harvesting squash and corn”
Here’s something you might try when your mom gets that way—I call it the ‘flipper fish’—you will fish for complaints in reverse, like this: “Mom, you are so right, you are so much better at x, I think I will just give up.” That will stop her in her negative tracks, and hopefully get her to respond with a supportive statement like: “Oh no, dear, just be patient, you’ll get there!” Hehe, worth a shot?! 😖
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Ha! She makes comments like that to me, in a VERY sarcastic manner, when I have given her information she doesn’t agree with. Usually involving politics or history.
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Ah, an advanced player! Well, she’s too old for the classic “Midas Touchdown”. In that case, maybe the “Panda Express”?? Speed is crucial here, so you’ve got to have one up your sleeve. When she goes full black, you instantly go full white. Example: She says: “Blah, blah, why haven’t you learned yet to grow a good beet?” And you reply: “Oh, guess what?! Costco is having a sale on bagels, I think we’ll stock up!” 🤣
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😂 Yeah, that would likely be the best strategy! My mother has always been a master and psychological manipulation and abuse, for as long as I could remember. She could stab you in the heart, and you’d be smiling as she did it, and not notice the knife until days later. It took me decades to get to a point where she can’t hurt me anymore. My brother, however, hasn’t, and it breaks my heart to see it.