Why We Garden

The Wife That is Venus with "Godzilla"

It's a seminal moment in the world of backyard vegetable garden. One doesn't grow an artichoke the size of the wife's head all that often. Yet that is the "vegetable of the day" that the wife that is Venus is holding. It's the garden payoff after coaxing artichoke monsters to grow into the size of Godzilla-like proportions during the fall, winter and early spring months.

The spring crop has arrived.

Venus and I have been munching on artichokes since harvesting the monster above right last weekend. The blast of warm rain during the week proved to be a welcome event as artichoke plants love cool, rainy weather and suck up the moisture.

Our Spring Artichoke Crop

Artichokes are one of those rare, coastal plants that will not only grow in the Sacramento region -- but thrive. The brutal onset of our furnace-like summer conditions ensures we will not get a followup fall crop, but it doesn't matter. By the time spring artichoke season ends? We will have consumed so many of them that just the sight of artichokes will bring on that familiar -- somewhat sick -- feeling.

Artichokes? Again? Really? I'd rather have a serving of frozen cardboard, please.

In other words -- the spring season quenches our artichoke desire just fine. There is no need for a repeat.

A unique variety: The Pineapple

Venus and I started growing artichokes when we first ventured into this world of vegetable gardening after the purchase of our first North Natomas spread in 2003. I use the word "spread" somewhat facetiously. Most North Natomas backyards are the size of mere postage stamps.

Why Sacramento City leaders argue against the ills of childhood obesity and then allow the construction of subdivisions with backyards not big enough for kids to skip a rope in is beyond me. Where do you expect them to run off that excess energy? The street?

Sorry -- I allowed myself to enter "rant" stage. Back to the subject: Monster artichokes.

Standard "Globe" Artichokes

Artichokes tend to grow rather quickly and will take up all available space. Many people have asked me how much room is needed to grow artichokes? My response is, "how much room do you have?" The point is, artichokes will take up that space and then keep right on growing into that spot you had reserved for azaleas.

In our case? With our smaller than small, postage-stamp sized backyard? We forced our artichoke plants to grow up rather than out. While this effort did work and did produce somewhat of a payoff, it also produced very tall and skinny artichoke plants that would sometimes snap in two due to the weight of the crop it was holding.

Our Artichoke Patch: One of Two

It was a sight that would bring tears to your eyes.

Venus and I started with four artichoke starter plants purchased from an Elk Grove nursery that has long since closed. I wish I could tell you the names of these varieties, but I honestly cannot. They were not labeled. We spotted four plants sitting on the corner of a shelf all those years ago and grabbed all four. End of story.

I didn't want to lose those productive varieties when my wonderful wife and I moved into our larger-than-life spread some years later. So, I proceeded to dig up the well developed root systems, stick them in pots, transported them to a new home and stuck them in a raised bed. They didn't so much as blink an eye. New growth emerged from the raised bed almost immediately. Transition = success.

The Pineapple: Unusual tips

But it's this very transition that does cause some consternation. These varieties -- which grow to massive sizes -- do not have a name. We call them our pineapple variety due to the well developed tips that appear on each artichoke. They look much like the rind of an pineapple. But this looks like no other variety grown in California -- commercially or in a garden setting.

Most artichoke leaves have a smooth, rounded ends. Some are somewhat sharper than others -- but none have this outlandish tip that is pin-sharp to the touch before cooking and quite soft after 90 minutes of steaming. I suppose it could be a mutation of the standard Globe or Imperial Star, or it could be a very old heirloom variety that has withstood the test of time in many a backyard garden.

Preparing for Harvest

No matter. This is our favorite variety for many a reason. The leaves are soft, buttery and tasty after cooking. The hearts are of a massive size -- the big payoff for an artichoke connoisseur. The early season stems are just as tender and flavorful as the heart itself with early season production, but will grow tough and stringy as the weather warms up.

No need to serve this baby with a side of anything other than a mixture of butter and garlic salt. This is a meal in itself.

I should know. I've had a few of them this past week. And a few more are yet to come. Venus and I expanded upon our artichoke experiment a few years ago. Instead of one or two plants, there are now seven or eight. That makes for a tasty crop.

Long live the Pineapple.

MORE ABOUT ARTICHOKES:

Saveur Magazine has a nice listing of artichoke varieties here (no sign of our Pineapple, however).

The Artichoke Advisory Board of California has a listing of commercial varieties here. Can you spot our mystery variety? We can't.

The Muse

Seignac Guillame: The Muse

It's no secret that bloggers sometimes get tired of blogging. The blog becomes a drag, man. When the wife starts referring to herself as a "Blog Widow," to a newspaper reporter no less? Houston, we have a problem!

Sometimes, we just plain run out of ideas. I mean, how many times can I write about the subject of garlic before it gets a little plain and a little dull? I've written so much about heirloom tomatoes that nothing comes as a surprise anymore. Suddenly, blogging becomes a chore.

That's when things go south. While most bloggers try to make it work with advertising, and some do a pretty good job at making a living, most of us do this for the joy of "putting pen to paper." This is nothing more than our journal -- a cyber journal at that. "Dear Diary, today that little girl with red hair threw a tomato at me..."

For some bloggers, even the good writers, the stress is just too much. They up and quit. They don't come back. The blogging landscape is littered with "dead blogs" that haven't been updated for years. One of the latest bloggers to put down the pen is Prudence Pennywise, a wonderful writer with a sharp wit.

Prudence Pennywise

Guess what? She got tired. I don't hear from Prudy anymore. I miss hearing from her. Prudy came up with some fantastic recipes and the blog earned her a spot on a local cooking show. It earned awards. It earned a faithful readership. It earned well-deserved attention. But not anymore.

Does this mean Bill Bird is going away? Hah! Fat chance Fredo! Dream on dude! This is still a lot of fun for me, although I don't have the time I once had to pay attention to it. I don't update it as often as I would like. Sometimes I lose focus. Sometimes I run out of ideas -- or I don't know how to frame a particular subject or post. Call it "Blogger Block." It's like writer's block. Yes, we get it too.

And then -- that "moment" comes. It always does. It's a seminal moment. Something happens -- somewhere -- and you are literally struck with inspiration. The block that frustrated you time and again is suddenly gone. You can't type fast enough.

Artichoke in Bloom

Sometimes that inspiration will come from the wife that is Venus. Sometimes? It comes from a different blog posting -- perhaps something that Farmer Fred Hoffman wrote about earlier in his blog. In this particular case -- my inspiration stemmed from one, simple, solitary line: BLOOMING ARTICHOKES: BEE CRACK.

It's the title of a post written by Sacramento garden blogger Carri Stokes and it brought a smile to my face as soon as I read it. Carri has a rather unique and wonderful way of communication in her blog. Not only is the posting true -- it's laugh out loud funny. And -- I may not have been the only blogger inspired by this posting. Some days later, Farmer Fred would write about "following a friend in the garden."

Hello Kitty Hive

The posting also made me think about what my colony has been feeding on this spring and summer. The bees inside that neon-pink Hello Kitty hive have been literally humming with activity. The numbers inside that hive have increased exponentially and the hive is now back to pre-swarm levels. I have once again been blessed with a strong queen. A strong queen means a strong hive.

But a strong hive also requires a strong food or pollen source. The Bird Back 40 will never contain enough blooming plants to fill that need -- but I've come to discover (happily I might add) that the colony has found numerous and abundant pollen sources in the yards and parks that dot North Natomas. In other words, they're doing just fine.

If there is one side benefit to budget cutbacks in the Sacramento City Parks and Recreation Program, it would have to be the state of numerous parks in North Natomas. The acres of grass set aside for family fun and gatherings are no longer bright green and tightly manicured as they once were. Although this might sound bad, it's actually been a benefit to all things bee.

Typical North Natomas Park: Covered in Clover

Without the constant maintenance and upkeep, clover has proliferated throughout park settings. Clover does not react well to many modern lawn fertilizers. In many cases, clover has been classified as a "nuisance weed," and the lawn fertilizers are specially formulated to knock it out. This is especially vexing to bee colonies. For if blooming artichokes are indeed "bee crack," then clover would represent the Surf n' Turf restaurant special. Bees can't get enough of it.

No matter how hard I try -- I haven't been able to track colony flights out of the Bird Back 40. I can tell which general direction they're heading. But once a bee picks up speed, it's very easy to lose sight of them. There is no doubt in my mind, however, that they found nearby parks inviting. A close check of those fields of clover revealed hundreds if not thousands of them, collecting as much pollen as possible before flying back home.

Honeybee Raiding Clover: North Natomas

Were they bees that belonged to the Hello Kitty Hive? That's somewhat impossible to tell. But the nice thing about pollen sources is this: they are plentiful and usually multiply in abundance. Plants that produce the kinds of pollen that bees can't resist are often the cheapest forms of landscaping found anywhere. And the new subdivisions that have sprouted out near Sacramento International Airport are planted with acres of pollen producers. There is no shortage of pollen out north.

Intentional? I think not. Cost is usually the determining factor in the growth of new subdivisions -- that and housing demand (which there hasn't been much of lately). But some how, some way, it works. Nature has found a way.

Bee Crack indeed.

A Salivatin' Sight INDEED!!!

The "Pineapple" Artichoke

I like mine with BUTTER! Okay -- mebbe just a little bit of melted butter -- combined with margarine and garlic salt. That's the pefect dipping sauce for a beauty of an artichoke like this one to your right.

As for the wife? The wife that is Venus goes ALL out when it comes to the perfect artichoke dipping sauce. Sure -- there's a LOT of bit of butter -- some fresh lemon juice -- fresh herbs from the herb garden and just a tiny bit of salt.

And that makes it just right. What is your favorite dipping sauce? We're taking suggestions -- because we're about to come into a "boatload of artichokes."

I am literally licking my lips at the thought of the 2011 artichoke season. As the photo in the upper right will attest and the others below will show -- that season is just around the corner. And -- I might add -- it's also a tad early this year.

Oh, that's just tooooo bad!

The "Mother Bed"

After a disappointing 2010 artichoke season -- the "mother" plants have rebounded in a big way this spring. They've nearly grown right out of the raised bed I have them contained in and have nearly reached the top of a six-foot-high fence. I have never seen them get quite this large or quite this lush before. But I'm not complaining. Oh no -- not Bill Bird. Not in the slightest.

You see -- do you know what large and lush artichoke plants will result in? Large, lush and tender artichokes hopefully.

How do I know when artichoke season is right around the corner? It's when they begin showing up at the local supermarket -- usually at a pretty good price too. It's not all that uncommon to find them at Sacramento area supermarkets with a price tag of two for $3 or $5.

And it's well worth the price. Venus and I always make sure to purchase four or six of them. It sort of whets the appetite for what is to come. For there is nothing folks -- nothing quite like -- the taste of an artichoke that you grow right in your own backyard. It's just as unique and tasty as a home-grown tomato or any home-grown fruit. There's just something "special" about them.

Artichokes here. Artichokes there. Artichokes everywhere!

So -- "what's so special Bill Bird," you ask? Well -- I'll tell you. Our home grown chokes have a nutty -- almost walnut-like flavor to them. It's a unique taste that you don't find with artichokes that are now arriving by the thousands from coastal farming areas. Another difference? The heart of our home-grown chokes -- that "prize" that artichoke lovers yearn for -- is both larger and richer.

Another thing about artichokes? We have different types. The artichoke featured in the picture at the top is what I refer to as the "Pineapple Artichoke" because the shape of the leaves at the top very much reminds me of the tough bark surrounding a pineapple. These also make for the largest artichokes out of our artichoke patch -- but it doesn't mean the other varieties are bad. Indeed -- they are just as unique in shape, size and taste. No two are alike.

But do you know what the best part of home-grown artichokes is? They're not "two for $3." They're not even "one for a dollar." It's as many as you can get from a backyard patch through the spring and early summer months for $0. A home grown patch consisting of 10-12 productive plants can produce 75-80 good-sized artichokes. The goal? The goal is to eat so many artichokes over the next three months that you can't stand to even look at them anymore.

That's the sign of a good season!

Secondary Bed. Plants less than one year old.

This is shaping up to be a unique season -- like no other -- because as lush and large as the mother plants are -- it's the secondary bed that I planted last fall that has me intrigued. The plants in this bed were transplanted over from the mother bed. Most of them reacted to the move by falling flat on their faces. Artichokes look like death when you transplant them from one bed to another. It's just the way they are. They rebounded soon enough though -- as the photo shows. They are not nearly as large or lush as the mother plants -- but that's to be expected.

They'll get there. Give them a few years.

What is most interesting however -- is that the transplants are a good two weeks behind the plants in the mother bed in terms of production. Are they producing artichokes? You bet they are! But they haven't emerged just yet. You can spot them by digging gently into the center leaves -- it's almost like peeling back a banana. They are there -- but they are behind.

Emerging Artichoke from secondary bed

So what will happen? I'm not too sure. I've never dealt with two artichoke beds before. I never had the room for more than one. It was always my intention to create two different beds with our move to the Bird Back 40 -- but "other projects" just got in the way. I finally did get around to creating that second bed last spring -- and populated said bed with starters last fall. After falling flat from transplant -- they sprang back to life and continued to grow through the cold and wet winter months.

Although I can't tell what will happen next -- I can tell you what our hope is. Our hope is that by the time the artichokes in the mother bed begin to play out -- artichoke season will be in full swing in the secondary bed. That means an extended season. Instead of 45-days of artichokes coming out of our ears -- we'll get 90.

It might get so bad that you'll see me on the street begging passing motorists to please take them off my hands.

We'll see about that.

To flower or not to flower? That is the question...

There is another "conundrum" so to speak. Should I allow some of these delicious artichokes to actually flower as God and Mother Nature intended? They are WONDERUL pollen sources for the Hello Kitty Hive. They are THICK with pollen. The bees love them. BUT -- if you allow an artichoke plant to flower -- it will result in decreased production the following year.

Venus and I love our bees -- yes -- but we also love our artichokes! Questions! Questions!

I'll be honest with you though. This is a nice problem to have.

It's Winter Solstice Day!!!

Old Man Winter!

A Happy Winter Solstice to you! As well as a Happy First Day of Winter. And why not throw in a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays while I'm at it?

Ah -- the time you have when you're unemployed. I suppose I'd better enjoy it before the honeymoon ends. And it will end -- trust me.

It better!

This day is an important event for many gardeners. It's time to put 2010 behind us. It's the shortest day of the year (for certain parts of the world) -- and it also means that -- from this day forward -- we'll start to see more sunlight.

Those long days of summer are closer than you think.

So what exactly is the Winter Solstice? For that answer -- we turn to people who are much smarter than me (anyone and everyone). This fine bit of information is provided by www.timeanddate.com:

"The December solstice occurs when the sun reaches its most southerly declination of -23.5 degrees. In other words, it is when the North Pole is tilted 23.5 degrees away from the sun. Depending on the Gregorian calendar, the December solstice occurs annually on a day between December 20 and December 23. On this date, all places above a latitude of 66.5 degrees north are now in darkness, while locations below a latitude of 66.5 degrees south receive 24 hours of daylight.

...for an observer in the northern hemisphere, the December solstice marks the day of the year with the least hours of daylight for those living north of the Tropic of Cancer. Those living or traveling north of the Arctic Circle towards the North Pole will not be able to see the sun during this time of the year."

For gardening FANATICS like me and the wonderful Wife that is Venus? It means the official kickoff to planning next year's spring and summer gardens. It's a time to place an order for certain -- selected -- varieties of seed. It's time to drag out and piece together ye olde seed starting rack.

In other words? There's lots to do.

Pit River Bridge at Shasta Lake

It's also a time to reflect. We've been incredibly fortunate so far this winter season in Northern California thanks to an early series of storms that have dropped a near-record amount of rainfall in the valley and boatloads of snow in the Sierra Nevada. Reservoirs that hold this bounty -- like the bathtub known as Lake Shasta -- are nearly full as the picture to the left indicates.

Water inflow is so strong at other storage facilities like Folsom Lake -- for example -- that dam operators are releasing record amounts of water into the American River below. River levels on the Sacramento -- American and Feather Rivers are at or near all-time highs.

Recently Transplanted Artichoke Plants

The rainstorms we've received so far have been so strong and so furious that they've overwhelmed the drainage system in the front and backyards. I have a series of small lakes to prove it -- and water flow from that drainage system has been strong enough to blow off the plastic drain caps in the front yard.

Merry Freaking Christmas!

Despite all of that good news -- we're not out of the woods just yet. But we're off to a mighty fine start in the wet weather season.

Although I don't personally enjoy this time of year (who enjoys getting pelted with rain?) -- there is one plant in the Bird backyard that can not only "take it" -- it absolutely cries out for more.

You might remember that this was the state of my poor artichoke garden (pictured above) last month when I decided to transplant some new plants from one overcrowded bed to another that wasn't so crowded. How do artichoke plants react when they are dug up and planted somewhere else? They flop down like they're dead.

One Month Old Artichoke Transplants

But they're not -- not really. This is the same bed about five weeks later. All of those plants that had FLOPPED have suddenly sprung back to life and are soaking up this cold and rainy weather. Artichokes do best in coastal weather conditions -- and we've had a lot of that in Northern California during the past couple of weeks -- with a lot more yet to come.

By this spring? It will be Artichoke City in the Backyard of Bird. And there is nothing quite like the nutty flavor of home-grown artichokes.

But -- don't worry -- all of those artichokes will find a good home. The phone just rang while I was typing this blog posting.

My days of "House Boy" for the Wife that is Venus are coming to an end. Unemployment is over. As of next week? It's back to the daily grind.

I hope the new boss likes home-grown artichokes and other home-grown goodies from our backyard. She has most certainly earned them.

One Garden Project Leads Too....

Ronald Reagan

Former President Ronald Reagan once remarked that; "Regulations are like spores of a fungus -- they settle anywhere and everywhere and create more spores..."

Now -- despite how you may feel personally about the 40th President of the United States and the 33rd Governor of California (he does tend to elicit the best and worst out of people) -- he could have just as easily been talking about gardening.

Replace the term "regulations" with "gardening projects" and you have a statement that is probably more truthful than Reagan's original quote.

How do I know this? From experience of course!

New Artichoke Bed?

Case in point? The gardening "bed" located to your immediate left. This "bed" is the latest edition to our backyard garden. Constructed from CHEAP Home Depot brand Redwood fenceboard (did I say CHEAP?) -- Venus and I filled this bed with planter mix from Hasties Capitol Sand and Gravel just this past spring (I think the planter mix may have cost more than the box).

What was the new box for? I'm glad you asked. I had intended to move some artichoke plants from the overcrowded artichoke bed to your right -- over into the new box. But there was just one -- small problem.

Overcrowded Artichoke Bed

You really shouldn't attempt to transplant artichoke plants in the spring. I've learned that failure of a project through experience. Nope -- your best bet is to "divide and conquer" in the fall -- after the main artichoke plants have succumbed to the harsh Sacramento Valley summertime heat -- and the root systems are sending up replacements by the dozens.

So -- what to do with the new box then? Venus and I let "the kid" -- nephew Marquitos Stromberg -- plant the new box with a variety of spring seeds ranging from carrots to parsnips and anything and everything in between. Not just any carrots either. Normal carrots are boring. The boy was into those funky carrots called "Atomic Red" and those fancy yellow types named "Solar" or "Sunshine."

The nephew did a better job than I expected. Because when it came time to pull up the nephew's seed starting project -- well -- the wife that is Venus and I encountered one small problem.

Sunshine Yellow Carrots

Call it a monster sized carrot and turnip harvest. When I say monster -- I mean MONSTER. I've never grown carrots THIS LARGE -- nor in this LARGE A NUMBER.

"What am I going to do with this pile of produce now," I wondered. Remember! The original project was to transplant artichokes. Suddenly -- an unforseen gardening project leapt onto Bill Bird's radar screen. Life had given me carrots -- a fair amount of parsnips and some fat turnips hidden in the back.

Lastly -- as I grabbed a whithering basil plant that had clearly reached the end of its season -- a friendly reminder buzzed by my ear. It was a bee. But not just any old bee. It was one of MY BEES -- a bee from the Hello Kitty Hive. And -- as I stared intently as the basil flowers protruding from three fading basil plants -- I spotted another -- and yet another -- and yet one more.

Surprise! You've Got Parsnips!

I suddenly realized that I was about to pull out an important pollen source that bees from my backyard hive were utilizing at the moment. It's the Fall Season folks. Pollen sources are drying up fast. Bees are flying longer distances and in greater numbers in the quest to store up pollen and honey in time for the winter season.

I just couldn't pull those basil plants out -- not now anyway. So -- they stayed -- which created yet ANOTHER garden project for the day.

See what I'm getting at?

The job of transplanting artichokes from one bed to another is actually quite simple. It's almost impossible to kill an artichoke plant. I know because I've tried. They didn't like that one encounter with the lawnmower (a mistake) -- nor did they appreciate a spray-bath of Roundup (another mistake).

Divide and Conquer!

Oh -- sure -- they'll look unhappy at first. But they always seem to bounce back. The scientist who predicted that only cockroaches would survive a nuclear holocaust obviously never had an artichoke plant in the backyard. These things are rather indestructable.

Another tidbit that I've discovered through the years is that artichokes LOVE room. The more you give them -- the bigger they will get -- which leads to larger and more tastier harvests. Many people have asked me how much room an artichoke plant needs and my response has always been; "how much room do you have?" Because an artichoke will fill up that space rather quickly and rampage into other areas where you may not want them.

Clean Bed Ready for Winter!

The best way to remove an artichoke is to remove a portion of the root system that the plant protruding above the ground is attached too. This is easier said than done -- and can require a bit of tugging and maybe a stick of dynamite or two before you hear that satisfying CRACK!

From that point -- you simply move that chunk of root system and plant over to the new bed -- dig an appropriate-sized hole and plant. Make sure the root system is buried under an inch or two of soil -- with the plant still above ground.

How will you know if you've taken the right steps? Trust me -- the plant will let you know. For -- if you return the next morning and find your transplants DEAD and FLATTENED just like this -- you've done the right job.

Unhappy Artichoke Transplants

Seriously! Those plants that had been so full of life and vigor the previous day will droop to the ground and fall over flat. They'll give you that accusing "Why Did You Move Me" look -- and will let you know they were much happier where they had been before.

Don't despair kids! It only looks like you've killed it. In time? New sprouts will begin to emerge from the center of the plant. By this December? I'll have artichoke plants loving our cool Sacramento winter weather. And by next spring? Hopefully -- a record artichoke harvest from not just one bed -- but two.

Two is twice as nice!

Count Your Blessings...

One of my favorite movies to watch during the holidays would have to be "White Christmas," starring the incomparable Bing Crosby. But it's not just Bing. It just might be the all-star cast with him -- including Rosemary Clooney -- Danny Kaye and Vera-Ellen.

Perhaps it's the music of Irving Berlin? Perhaps it's the reminder of my mother and father who were straight out of the World War II generation (also known as the Greatest Generation)? I'm not sure. But -- as I was walking through the garden tonight -- the song "Count Your Blessings" suddenly started to filter through my head.

That's when it hit me. I'm tired of complaining about the weather. Tired of complaining about the rain. Tired of this not happening -- or that. Really -- to be honest? It's totally out of my control. I can bitch -- moan and whine till the cows come tromping home -- and it's not going to make a teensy bit of difference.

Finally -- I began to focus on the positives that this extra long shot of winter and mild spring weather have given us. The artichoke harvest for one? It continues into Infinity and Beyond to use a later movie term. I've never quite experienced an artichoke season quite like this. And as long as the weather remains cool? The artichoke garden will continue to produce babies like this.

Venus harvested these a good month ago. They were the first of DOZENS of artichokes that have been harvested since. I'll be honest. I haven't come to the point yet where I've said "ENOUGH WITH THE CHOKES!" But I'm getting close now -- so if you happen to find some artichokes at your front door tomorrow morning on the way out for work -- you've just been the target of a "drive-by artichoke dropoff."

During most years? The artichokes produce until temperatures climb into the consistent eighties. At that point -- they begin to take on that rather "tired" look and slowly decline. But with this prolonged stretch of weather? New artichoke plants are springing to the surface of the artichoke bed -- and each and every one is bound and determined to produce yet another crop.

Count your blessings...

But that's not all. Venus is bound and determined to get a fourth and fifth radish harvest out of the temperate growing conditions. Red leaf lettuce is literally jumping out of the raised beds. We shouldn't be harvesting these kinds of crops now. In fact -- the radishes should have played out a good week or two ago. But when Mother Nature gives you lemons? Make lemonade. I'll take another harvest of purple, blue, white, red and green Easter Egg radishes.

The same story is playing out across the Back 40 as our spring crops continue to produce a bumper harvest. Take these Snow Peas and Experimental Peas (a gardening gift) for example? When Venus first started experimenting with peas three years ago -- this probably represented the total output of our entire harvest.

But -- with a little experience at what to plant and when (thanks to the Handy-Dandy Farmer Fred Hoffman planting guide) -- she's been getting "better" to say the least. Color me pea-green impressed. What we snacked on for dinner tonight barely represents a fraction of what is hanging off the teepee trellis system we have in a couple of different raised beds.

During most years -- the peas would have been LONG GONE by now. We would have cleared them out of the way to make room for cucumbers -- bush beans -- pole beans and other summer crops. But our cucumbers continue to shiver and make sad faces in starter cups set on a cold sidewalk. So -- we go with what works.

One gardener has already made an interesting observation that the recent eruption of the Eyjafjallajokul Volcano in Iceland (it last erupted two centuries ago) may have dramatically altered our weather pattern -- and this just might be the start of the coolest summer on record.

I certainly hope not -- but there is plenty of empirical evidence to suggest otherwise -- such as the rather infamous Year Without a Summer.

I just hope that everyone ordered enough radish and pea seeds!!!

A Lizard's Ball Sack

Hmm...

Let's just roll that one around in the back of ye olde cranium for a second or two -- shall we?

During my eons of professional radio broadcasting education at Fresno State University -- the all-knowing professors instructed us to write flowery prose that created an image in the listener's mind. Instead of the line; "it rained real hard here today," we came up with image provoking lines of; "there's a small lake forming at the intersection of Shaw and Cedar Avenues..."

Imagine the image that comes to mind when you think of the phrase: "A Lizard's Ball Sack."

On second thought -- don't.

Yet -- that is how the "significant other" of a well-known Sacramento gardener describes the "look" of an artichoke that is slowly emerging from the center of an artichoke plant. After hearing that line -- suddenly my excitement vanished. My taste for all things "artichoke" went south (probably to Fresno). All I could think of was: Look at Bold Line Above.

First -- I really don't know what a lizard's private parts look like. Secondly -- I really don't want to know. Yes -- we do have small lizards that scamper about here in the wilds of North Natomas. No -- I am not inspecting the private parts of said lizard. And -- in case you were wondering -- no -- I'm not about to "go there."

I don't think the lizard would appreciate the inspection either -- but that's just a guess on my part. I haven't questioned a lizard lately. Have you?

Image provoking comments aside -- I don't think I'm going to surprise anyone with the statement of: Spring Has Sprung. It's fairly obvious. Vast fields of yellow mustard are blooming like mad in North Natomas. The daffodils popped early in February and now the tulips have shown up. The shower of blossoms that emerged from the Santa Rosa plum has come and gone -- and now? We have artichokes.

What's the big deal? Well -- number one -- I think this is the first time I've seen them pop this early. Usually? The first buds on an artichoke plant don't emerge until early to mid April. By the time May and June rolls around? It's fresh artichoke season in the Sacramento Valley. It does coincide somewhat with the start of artichoke harvesting efforts on the coast -- which means the grocery store headlines of "Artichokes: Five for $5" isn't all that far off.

But -- again -- I'm partial to what comes straight out of my backyard. I grew them. I know exactly what I put into them. I know exactly what I'm getting. And what I'm getting is some of the best artichokes you'll find anywhere. My guess is Venus and I will be harvesting the largest 'chokes in another week or two. It sort of depends upon the weather.

Speaking of the weather -- the series of rainstorms that is supposed to hit the Sacramento area this week is coming at an opportune time for backyard artichoke enthusiasts such as myself. I've discovered through experimentation that a heavy dose of water and fertilizer through the prime growing months results in large harvests of not only large artichokes -- but 'chokes that are just as tender.

Yes -- you'll still get artichokes without the increased attention to water and fertilization. The first harvest will still be pretty good. But the second, third and dare I say fourth, harvests will result in artichokes that are smaller in size -- and worse yet -- tough to chew on. How tough? How much do you like chewing on leather?

The wonderful wife that is Venus and I are sharing fertilization duties this year. The lady has hit upon a super-secret (so secret that she won't even tell me) mix of liquid organic fertilizers and I have been spreading nitrogen-rich -- time-release fertilizers such as Osmocote and other pelleted plant foods.

Is there such a thing as too much love for artichokes? If there is -- we haven't found it yet. Lord knows -- we're trying various experiments from year to year. It just doesn't seem to matter much. The more love that you show artichokes? The more love that they will show you in terms of a prolonged harvest.

How long will the harvest be? That depends upon Mother Nature. If the Grand Dame provides us with pleasant spring-time temperatures in the mid 70's to lower 80's -- you can stretch an artichoke harvest for three months. BUT -- the moment the mercury rises above 90? Kiss the season goodbye. The large plants don't like the heat much.

At that point -- they shut down -- die back -- and wait for the cooler breezes of fall. That's when the life cycle begins anew.

As for varieties? That's a good question. Venus and I know we have different varieties of artichokes that are growing out of the same bed. They're easy to spot. But the names were lost years ago. The artichokes that you see in these pictures started from four starter plants that were purchased from an Elk Grove area nursery in the spring of 2003.

They have survived year after year after year of abuse. They have even survived a transplant from one backyard to another. Just like the old Timex watch -- "they take a licking and keep on ticking."

Strangely -- that line brings back the image of a lizard's ball sack.

Pinkston -- clearly -- wants to change the subject.