Bounty from my little garden

I have grown a tomato thicket, a tomato-and-cucumber hedgerow. Don't know what happened out there, but when I go to pick tomatoes I need a pith helmet and a machete. Almost lost Doris in the tangle a week ago. Even my little rubber snakes get lost in there. Okay, might be exaggerating a little. Here, see for yourself. . .

I planted just four (think it was four), small tomato plants. Now they are huge. Trunks are big around as my thumb, maybe bigger. It is a thick, impenetrable, fruit-bearing jungle. This has never happened to me!.

My pepper plants are doing a Jack and the Beanstalk imitation, but I do want to register a complaint against them. Of the four I planted, only three have borne fruit, and not much at that. May need to cut them down with a chain saw this fall, but they've been spending a lot more energy gettin' big than producing peppers.

Here, see my pepper trees?

Must have done something right this spring. These garden plants have flourished. They've all gotten real big, and some, like the tomatoes, have produced prolifically. Now if I could just figure out what I did different from before.


Update on the peas. They grew, sort of. Don't think I realized how often I was supposed to come out here and pick 'em. By the time I got to them they were usually bad. Don't think I'll try these again. The only persnickity thing allowed in my garden is the gardener. High-maintenance plants need not apply.

Update on the lettuce. It did really well, we actually ate a salad and used some for sandwiches as well. I will probably plant this again next year.

Cucumbers were downright wierd, or maybe I've just become accustomed to the perfectly formed samples in the grocery store. Mine twisted into curly cues, fattened into blobs, or just generally took upon themselves a remarkably un-cucumber-like appearance. Really strange. Don't think I picked a classically-shaped cucumber all summer. At least they tasted great.

 But now summer is over, fall has arrived. The cool (cold!) evening temperatures have felt wonderful. I'm ready for the changing of the season.

This is fair warning: I am not going to buy any sno-melt in preparation for winter, nor a new snow-shovel, nor will I make sure my snow blower will start. If I can get away with it, won't even clean the garage (don't tell Doris I said that). No winter preparations.

Last year I did all that and we got no snow. I jinxed it.

This year, I am making no preparations for a snowy winter. None! So look out!

Autopilot

We're talking about gardens, by the way, not airplanes. My garden is on autopilot, which means whatever God has programmed those green things to do, via their plant DNA, they are doing. And I like what they are doing.

Did not think my lettuce would grow, but, here it is.

Sharp eyes will spot two snakes. They are for public consumption; the public being squirrels and birds. Moderately successful deception. Normally they just scare me.

And, likewise, I did not think my sugar peas would grow, but here they are. Not quite sure what to do with them, but they have begun to produce pods. Amazing. Truly, these plants are on God's autopilot.

Doris's roses are between blooming cycles right now, but there is one blossom out. So fragrant I could smell it from eight feet away.

And my lillies continue to produce.

Can't wait for my tomatoes. Can taste 'em already.