18 September, 2011

September Garden

Our first watermelon!

We were able to keep most of our garden hydrated enough to survive Texas's hottest summer on record. This is one of our watermelons that we noticed this week, growing outside the fencing of our garden!

Here is a quartet of canteloupe that I photographed about a week ago...

It has taken advantage of the extra growing space on the fence around the garden.

Here they are today ~ getting a little more ripe!

Eggplant blossoms!

A couple of canteloupe that I picked this morning.

This one is one of the large ones that have grown this summer. One thing about our 100 degree plus temperatures: canteloupe seem to thrive in it! But so do the weeds, with all our irrigation.

It was too hot for too long for our seven tomato plants to even set blossoms this summer. One of our larger tomato plants completely dried up and died. The rest have struggled to stay alive, but also to make a comeback, but come back, they have! I saw lots of blossoms out there this morning.

Next, I need to concentrate on our pepper plants and give them a good feeding with Howard Garrett's liquid molasses plant concoction. I will shoot some photos of them later.

How does your garden grow? Are any of you planting a fall garden now? I have misplaced most of our seeds whilst getting things organized for the new schoolyear. But I will be replanting more cool-weather greens as soon as I find those seeds!


11 September, 2011

The Names by Billy Collins - In memorium 9 11

The Names
Billy Collins

Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night.
A soft rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze,
And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows,
I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened,
Then Baxter and Calabro,
Davis and Eberling, names falling into place
As droplets fell through the dark.
Names printed on the ceiling of the night.
Names slipping around a watery bend.
Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream.
In the morning, I walked out barefoot
Among thousands of flowers
Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears,
And each had a name --
Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal
Then Gonzalez and Han,
Ishikawa and Jenkins.
Names written in the air
And stitched into the cloth of the day.
A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox.
Monogram on a torn shirt,
I see you spelled out on storefront windows
And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city.
I say the syllables as I turn a corner --
Kelly and Lee,
Medina, Nardella, and O'Connor.
When I peer into the woods,
I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden
As in a puzzle concocted for children.
Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash,
Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton,
Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple.
Names written in the pale sky.
Names rising in the updraft amid buildings.
Names silent in stone
Or cried out behind a door.
Names blown over the earth and out to sea.
In the evening -- weakening light, the last swallows.
A boy on a lake lifts his oars.
A woman by a window puts a match to a candle,
And the names are outlined on the rose clouds --
Vanacore and Wallace,
(let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound)
Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z.
Names etched on the head of a pin.
One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.
A blue name needled into the skin.
Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,
The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.
Alphabet of names in a green field.
Names in the small tracks of birds.
Names lifted from a hat
Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.
Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.
So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart.