The Color of Summer

Vine-Ripening Lemon Boy Tomatoes-Bird Back 40

The color of summer in a backyard vegetable garden is a show not to be missed. Like the rainbow, backyard produce can produce a glow, a hue, an iridescence that excites the soul. I can see that excitement in the photo to your immediate right. I will soon be able to taste that glow and excitement that is the first vine-ripened tomato of the 2014 summer gardening season.

And there's a quiet satisfaction in knowing that we made that. We made it happen. All that work -- all that prep -- it's all going to start paying off now with a bounty of produce that will transform the Bird Back 40 into our personal farmer's market. It may not be the first tomato to ripen up in the Sacramento area. Others have beat us to the punch and are weeks ahead of us.

Sioux Tomato

No matter. It's not a race. It's just the first tomato of the season. This weekend the Lemon Boy tomato pictured above will join the first cucumber of the young season on small snack plate to be voraciously consumed by two backyard gardeners who are eagerly awaiting that first taste of the summer season.

It's late June in Sacramento. You won't see them in these pictures -- but the weeds are EVERYWHERE. I suppose that's the price one pays for wearing a boot for a solid month, waiting for a cranky Achilles Tendon to heal. But heal it has. There is strength in that step again. The pain is gone. I'm ready to be turned loose in the garden for the first time in nearly two months.

Heirloom Tomato Monsters-Bird Back 40

A lot of work awaits.

But with the work comes excitement. Yes -- I need to stake up some tomato plants that have grown so large that they fallen over. But as I peer into the depths of those plants, now hidden by weeds, what I can see brings a large smile to my face. That courtship we danced with Love Apple Farms in May is paying dividends with monster production in the month of June. We haven't lost a single plant to disease this year, which is incredibly rare. Not only that, the vast majority of them are loaded for bear.

This includes the Sioux Tomato which has found a home in the Bird Back 40 for the very first time this year. This isn't a new tomato -- not by any stretch of the imagination. Introduced in 1944 by the University of Nebraska, the Sioux qualifies as an exceptional heirloom variety that has withstood the test of time. I may not have planted this variety before, but I've certainly heard good things about it from others.

Paul Robeson Tomato

In the world of growing heirloom tomatoes, my friends, there's nothing quite like the marketing campaign called "word of mouth."

When I stroll through the garden and study the various tomato plants in various stages of production, it's not the single fruit that interests me nearly as much as the cluster of fruit. Cherry varieties offer fruit that is clustered together, but that can be hard to find with standard, larger varieties. So if I find clusters of fruit on plants that are designed to produce 1 lb. beefsteak monsters or more? That's called excitement.

Honeybee Forages on Basil Flowers

These clusters exist on the Paul Robeson. What is a Paul Robeson you ask? Well, I'm glad you asked! Please, let me enlighten you.

Paul Robeson was an equal rights advocate who stood up to the infamous Joseph McCarthy communist witch hunts of the 1950’s, which nearly destroyed his career in opera. Idolized in Russia, as well as the rest of the world, this black Russian heirloom was named in his honor. Today the Paul Robeson can be found in vegetable gardens around the world, including the Bird Back 40.

Think that might go well in a jar of Roasted Garlic, Pepper and Heirloom Tomato Salsa? Yeah -- I think it might too. It makes for an interesting story too.

Siam Queen Thai Basil-Bird Back 40

It's summer. The tomatoes are fruiting. The corn is growing. Peppers are popping. Bees are buzzing with excitement as they race from one tempting patch of pollen to another. The first tomato of the season awaits harvest.

Does it get any better than this?

Plums are for Drinkin!

Santa Rosa Plum Cocktails

Silly rabbit! Trix are for kids! And fresh plums from the yard aren't for munching -- although they do make a nice snack in the morning, afternoon or night. No -- fresh plums are for drinking! And I have the proof. Look Ma! Photos! Know what that is? That my friends is a plum cocktail. You might also find a Plum-Basil Gin Fizz in there somewhere.

And you just might find the recipes for the lip-smacking concoctions at the bottom of the page. Provided you're lucky.

Santa Rosa Plum Tree

In order to "make" a cocktail such as these -- several items are needed. Gin would be a good start. And with good gin available just about everywhere you look in the Sacramento area -- finding a bottle of the good stuff shouldn't be all that difficult. As for the other items? You'll probably need a fresh lime or two (lime juice works too), some sprigs of basil. And you'll need to harvest about 10-15 large, tree-ripened Santa Rosa plums from your tree in the front yard.

Don't have a Santa Rosa plum tree in your front yard? How about the back yard? No? Then, I'm sorry, but as the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld fame once lectured: "No plum cocktails for you!" Because, I'm kinda sorry to say this, but fresh, tree-ripened Santa Rosa plums are an absolute MUST for preparing drinks like these.

Ripe Santa Rosa Plums

The good, ol' Santa Rosa plum tree put out a right fine crop this year - and it was good to see. Last year I let a tree trimmer go to work on it because I allowed it to grow beyond my control. That's never a good idea. Because -- this was one excited tree trimmer. And he did a right fine job of cutting it back, sure enough. Unfortunately, he did a little bit too good of a job. We didn't get many plums last year.

Ahem, we all learn from our mistakes.

Sliced Plums Added to Simple Syrup Mixture

So -- this year I sent Mr. Hyperactive Tree Trimmer into retirement. I trimmed it myself last summer -- several times actually. But I made sure to keep enough fruiting branches around so I would hopefully enjoy a nice crop in 2014. Well, whaddya know? Tree trimming isn't so difficult after all. You just have to do it. That tree isn't going to trim itself.

Although the tree is raided regularly by a family of shrieking mockingbirds, who also dive-bomb the neighborhood cats incessantly, there's enough to go around. I must admit -- I've been enjoying a number of at-work breakfast breaks involving sliced Santa Rosa plums. There's always five or six for snacking on when I get home.

Notice That Color?

And did I mention the plum cocktails?

Unlike other fruit-producing trees that grace the Bird Back 40 -- the Santa Rosa plum isn't all that unique. In fact, it's one of the most common plum trees found in homes from one end of the valley to another. It loves our weather. It grows quickly. Treat it with a little love and care -- and it will reward you with sweet, fresh, dripping fruit goodness.

Like just about every other plum tree on the planet, it can and will drop plums on the grass or a sidewalk if it's planted too close to one. The birds also peck their share out of the tree. But that's about the only drawback that I can think of. And, if you don't mind picking up a few plums that have fallen to the ground -- well -- consider it a nice fruit producer for the month of June.

Plums Are For Drinking!

As for the drinks? I discovered those last year, online. If you just feed your Google search monster with the words Santa Rosa plums and gin, a multitude of recipes pop up. I find that many of them come from the Deep South -- or even southwest. And some even have quite the history, such as the Sugar Plum Dreams Cocktail, which was first served in 1862.

And did I fail to mention just how good plum cocktails are? If I did, forgive me. They are a treat not to be missed. So -- find yourself some Santa Rosa plums or any other plum that's in season right now and follow my path straight where I land on my face at some point.

I guess you can have one too many plum-tini's...

PLUM COCKTAIL:

Plum Cocktails

(prepare in advance)

- Heat over medium heat 1 1/4 cups sugar and 1 1/2 cups water in a saucepan until sugar dissolves

- Bring to a boil, then stir in 10-15 plums (pitted and cut into wedges). I also mashed the mixture with a potato masher

- Remove from heat and refrigerate until cold

(to serve)

- Fill glasses with ice

- Squeeze 1 lime wedge into each glass

- Stir in 1/4 cup plum syrup and 1 oz gin into each glass

- Add sparking water to fill, stir

The plum syrup, lime juice and gin can be combined in a pitcher for easy entertaining. Just fill glasses with desired amount and top off with sparkling water.

PLUM-BASIL GIN FIZZ:

MAKES 1 DRINK

INGREDIENTS

1 ripe plum, pitted, half diced and half sliced

5 large basil leaves

2 oz. gin

1 oz. simple syrup

Seltzer, to top drink

Lime wedge, for garnish

INSTRUCTIONS

In a cocktail shaker, muddle the diced plum and basil leaves. Fill the shaker with ice; add the gin & simple syrup. Place on the shaker lid and shake for 1 minute. Pour into a glass filled the sliced plum. Fill glass to the top with seltzer and garnish with lime wedge.

But Will There be Enough for PIE???

Arapaho Blackberries

My friends! The facetious, bull hockey artist known as yours truly is asking a stupid question. Why is it so stupid? Look at the evidence to your immediate right! Know what that is? That's about 5 lbs. of LIP-SMACKING blackberries harvested directly from the Bird Back 40. Know what's so special about this harvest? I'll tell you what's special.

It ain't done yet.

It's just getting started.

That 5 lbs. is a proverbial "drop in the bucket." 

Loaded Arapaho Blackberry Plant-Bird Back 40

Is 5 lbs. of freshly harvested blackberries enough for a blackberry pie? Is Bill Bird a facetious, bull hockey artist? Therefore -- we know the answer to the pie question. There's enough for pie. There's enough for two pies. Wait! Make that three pies! Anyone venture to guess, FOUR? Can you eat four blackberry pies? I honestly don't know if I could (in one sitting). But, I'll tell you this much. It sure would be fun to try!

The surprising thing about this haul from the Bird Back 40 is it came from just ONE blackberry bush. Yes, there's more. This boatload of berries came from the Arapaho Blackberry, which was nothing more than an impulse purchase three years ago at Lowe's Big Box store in West Sacramento. Hey! I needed another blackberry to complete my blackberry plantings.

Ripening Arapaho Blackberries

Up next is the harvest from the Black Satin Blackberry plant. I'll admit -- the harvest from the Black Satin is not going to be as wonderfully prolific as the Arapaho. Boo Hoo. Bill Bird gets two pies instead of five. Oh darn. Woe is me. Cue up the world's smallest violin. Oh -- wait -- did I forget to tell you about the boysenberry harvest?

I'll admit -- I didn't do any research about the Arapaho before I bought it. The bare root vine just happened to be there on that February afternoon three years ago. It looked good. I bought it. I wouldn't find out about this special plant till some years later when I finally got around to researching what I purchased. I'll be honest -- this isn't the smartest way of planning out a fresh fruit garden. Do your research FIRST -- then buy. That's a good rule of thumb.

Look Ma! No thorns!

But -- every once in a great while -- a squirrel finds a nut. In this case, the nut dropped directly from the tree and smacked me upside my head. As I would come to discover -- the best thing about the Arapaho plant is the thorns.

It doesn't have any. Say what, Willis? No thorns? Blackberry plants and thorns go together like peanut butter and jelly! A blackberry plant without thorns is one step short of sacrilege! You can do that now? The short answer is, "yes you can." A trip to the backyard blackberry patch no longer means a trip to the nearest medical center to be treated with Bactine and bandages.

Next Year's Fruiting Cane Emerges

The Arapaho is a fairly recent introduction from the University of Arkansas Department of Forestry and Agriculture. If UC Davis is famous for developing and breeding new cultivars of strawberry plants (which they are), the University of Arkansas has the market cornered on thornless blackberry production. The Arapaho, which was released to the public in 1993, is just one of many recent blackberry introductions. 

The University of Arkansas Blackberry Breeding Program has recently developed many excellent blackberry cultivars including: Apache, Arapaho, Cherokee, Comanche, Cheyenne, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Kiowa, Navaho, Ouachita, and Shawnee. Almost all of them are thornless and almost all grow and grow well from one end of the country to another.

In fact -- the one variety of blackberry that isn't supposed to grow well in the Sacramento area is, surprisingly, the Arapaho. It's recommended for Garden Zones 3-8. Bill Bird gardens in Zone 9A. I can attest that it really doesn't matter. The Arapaho loves it here -- and I have the lip-smacking pie ingredients to prove it.

Another nice thing about the Arapaho is it doesn't require any staking. It will fruit more if you do tie it to something -- but the Arapaho sends up canes as thick as a small tree trunk every spring and summer. Those canes that emerge this year will serve as the fruiting canes next season. Sure enough -- while the Arapaho was growing a boatload of fresh blackberries for Bill and the wife that is Venus this spring -- next year's fruiting cane emerged from the raised bed it calls home and has grown straight up to a height of seven feet. When next spring arrives, it will eventually get so heavy with fruit production that I'll need to tie it to something to keep it from collapsing.

Blackberry Pie! For me?

No matter. That's why God invented fences. And 4X4 posts. And concrete. And, nevermind...

As for the age of question of: Is there enough for pie? Well, photos do tell a wonderful story...

100 Degrees! Stop! Pea-Pod Time!

Fresh Peas from the Spring Garden

In the words of the great MC Hammer, "U Can't Touch This." Well -- actually -- that's a lie because you can. And -- in all honesty folks -- I stole this. Not from MC Hammer either. I stole it from my neighbor, Patrick. He and his wife Jillian just recently celebrated the onset of parenthood with the birth of their first (and hopefully not last) baby girl.

Patrick and his wife aren't just great neighbors, they are also Facebook friends. And I was more amused to see one of his most recent post-birth Facebook posts state the following: "3:25 AM! Stop! Baby Time!" I suppose many young parents, and older parents, might recognize what is taking place next door. Needless to say, both new mom and dad are looking a little more tired than usual these days.

Pea Vines Heavy with Pea Pods

Hopefully new baby girl will learn to sleep more than an hour or two at a time at night. At least that's my hope for you good neighbors. As for me? I'm still quite limited in my garden endeavors thanks to this damn boot on my right leg. But I'm not totally useless. As I reminded the wife that is Venus -- I can sit at a kitchen table and shell pea pods to my heart's content. This is provided she goes out in the verboten garden area to harvest said pea pods.

And what a harvest it was!

Unfortunately -- we didn't get the seeds into the ground at the proper time. That normally happens in the fall -- around mid October. Emerging shoots will grow to a certain height before freezing weather moves in, shutting down the growth process. But beneath the freeze and underneath that soil line? The already established root system keeps right on growing. So when spring finally arrives? The pea shoots that were stunted by winter growth suddenly explode and flower like nobody's business.

Tall Telephone and Mister Big Pea Pods

Unfortunately, right about the time that I should have been planting peas, I was stuck in a hospital room instead, fighting off a nasty case of pneumonia. Pneumonia is no laughing matter. The heart won't work if you can't breathe -- and breathing was indeed a problem that month. It sort of set us behind. While the planting of said pea crop finally did take place -- it took place in early spring.

Despite the late planting, the crop wasn't half bad. The wife that is Venus and I are partial to two different types of pea seed (there are many). Mister Big Pea and Tall Telephone Pea tend to produce the largest pea pods, and the largest of peas. Like most crops, there is just no comparison to home-grown peas and the fake, frozen peas that are sold in the local grocery store. Home-grown peas are meaty, sweet, crunchy and offer a meal not to be missed. Peas purchased frozen in a bag are, well, "meh."

Fresh Peas and Pea Pods Good for Stir Fry Meals!

Both varieties are also somewhat resistant to the slugs and snails that regularly patrol the raised bed gardening areas. And -- try as they might -- the plants can resist marauding cats who like to dig them up. I have plenty of experience with marauding cats -- and slugs and snails -- unfortunately.

While the onset of 100 degree days is great for all thing heirloom tomatoes, garden-grown peppers, crunchy home-grown slicing cucumbers, squash, corn and the like -- it's killer-diller on fresh peas from the garden. Peas is strictly spring. Once the weather warms like it has -- those tender vines that yielded that sweet and tasty crunch of pea-dom are history. Those vines are but a distant memory now. But there's still a heaping-helping of fresh peas that are chilling in the freezer.

A Garden Feast

Those leftovers will be put to good use later this summer when the wife that is Venus and I get around to one of my favorite canning projects: Home Grown Veg-All. If you think Bill Bird has finally gone off the deep end for using the words "excitement" and "Veg-All" in the same sentence, my challenge to you my friend is "try it before you buy it."

For there's nothing like breaking into a Ball Canning jar brimming with spring and summer vegetable produce in the dead of winter. The smell of that year's garden is right there -- a reminder that even in the coldest of days -- spring and summer is just around the corner.

Fish + HH = AMF X Kitchen Sink = FAIL!

And they're Off!

Follow closely now children -- because the title of this article is the mathematical equation we followed earlier this spring when planting the heirloom tomato crop now growing, and growing quickly I might add, in the Bird Back 40. Fresh off last year's season where each tomato plant got a fish head, two aspirins plus bone meal in each planting hole, we redoubled our efforts in 2014.

My friends, I'm here today to tell you this. Despite those lovely looking plants pictured above right, you can "love" your tomato starter plants just a little bit too much. You can go overboard on even the most organic of treatment -- and I know this from experience. Because it's taken time, patience and a bit of replanting to get our starter plants to look THIS good at this point in May.

Adding Fish Parts to Holes for Tomato Plants

Plus -- several people who ignored frost concerns and warnings and planted in March are WAY ahead of us. In the words of the immortal Tom Petty, "you got lucky, babe." Because planting in March can sometimes result in misery in April, especially if the weather turns cold again. This year, it didn't. Oh sure, it cooled down a bit here and there and actually rained a bit. But it wasn't enough to knock off March planting efforts. And for those people who rolled the dice and planted in March, they'll be harvesting a bundle of fresh tomatoes in June and laughing at the rest of us who waited until the first weekend of May.

Edit: We normally plant on or around the birthday of Farmer Fred Hoffman of "Get Growing with Farmer Fred" fame. That's usually the last weekend of April. But it was raining that weekend so we pulled a bundle of weeds instead. Anyone who gardens will tell you there's always a weed or one thousand to pull. It just comes with the territory.

But -- I digress.

Let the Planting Commence!

Fresh off a fantastically productive and surprising tomato year in 2013, we once again called on the Goddess of Love Apple Farms fame to help us with our tomato planting efforts in 2014. This time Sara and the wife that is Venus armed themselves with two buckets of smelly fish parts instead of just one, aspirin for the planting holes, organic bone meal and a few other "additives."

Here is what this year's brew contained:

1 can of water soluble Mycorrhizae and Bacteria

1 bottle (300 count) aspirin

Two boxes of Granulated Humic Acids

Two 5-gallon buckets of fish heads, tails, guts, and various parts

4 bags of Bone Meal

A Garden Party?

Holes for 24 heirloom tomato plants were dug to a depth of two feet each. Into the hole went a big helping of "fish stuff," one-half cup of Humic Acids, one-half cup of bone meal and two aspirin. Tomato plants were removed from starter cups and soaked in a Mycorrhizae bath before planting. We then proceeded to fill the holes with composted soil. The official count that first weekend in May looked like this:

24 heirloom tomato plants

16 Pepper plants

4 eggplants

2 Blueberry plants LOADED with blueberries (Sharp Blue and Misty)

Notice the Dog...

Can you guess the first thing that happened after we went through all that work to plant everything into the raised beds? If you guess that the garden dog named "DIGGER" immediately tried to dig up 24 tomato plants in a quest to munch on some smelly fish parts, you wouldn't be half wrong. If you also guessed that many of the tomato plants suddenly seized up and died, you'd also be right on the money.

Both actually happened. What the dog didn't dig up and kill in the process, died on its own. Why? Because we gave our starter plants a bit too much love. There is such a thing such as too much love. And if you follow the witch's brew I've outlined above, you too can KILL your share of tomato plants.

Janet's Jacinthe Jewel

Thank goodness the wife that is Venus and I decided to plant two cups of each tomato variety. Those replacement plants came in handy. Instead of giving them away to family and friends as we've done in the past, we were doing quite a bit of "replacement planting," while muttering the words: "NEVER AGAIN!"

However, we seem to be past the worst of it. And, I'll be honest, not every plant seized up and died on us, nor did DIGGER dig it up. For those that survived the harrowing plant-out process, I'll be honest, they look GOOD. Not just good, good, mind you. But, REAL GOOD! This includes a number of varieties from Wild Boar Farms, including a new offering this year called Janet's Jacinthe Jewel.

Pepper and Basil Starter Plants

Described as a large bright orange (jacinthe) striped beefsteak, this is a potato-leafed variety that is off to an eye-popping start and seems destined to deliver a boatload of tomatoes, many in the one pound range. And this is a bad thing? I think not!

The onset of hot weather in May has also given our tomato plantings a boost. Our once "leggy" starters now feature thick stems and are flowering heavy. We also decided to devote more room to our tomato plantings, because there can never be a thing such as "too many tomatoes." If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you know this to be true.

Baby, I've Got a Headache...

Although I was not able to take part in the final plant out due to this bum wheel that keeps me confined to a walking boot (complete with a developing, continent-sized, blister), Venus sprinkled liberal amounts of leftover tomato plants to the in-ground test bed and other spots here and there in the Bird Back 40 that offered a bit of planting space. The final count is 39 plants -- about ten to 12 more than we normally plant during the summer season.

I'm pleased to report that everything the green-thumbed wife planted is now popping out of the ground at an accelerated rate -- this includes various garden seeds that she planted here and there. That list includes five varieties of carrots, six varieties of basil, four varieties of slicing cucumbers, three varieties of pickling cucumbers green onions, bush beans, squash, pumpkins and probably five to ten other things that I've forgotten.

There comes a point in the season that when it's time to pay a trip to the Farmer's Market? We head straight for the Bird Back 40...

The Show

Wonderful Pomegranate Tree-Bird Back 40

Hello old friend. It's nice to see you again. It's been far too long since you last visited and I'm overjoyed to see that you're feeling well again. I was so worried last year when you came down with some strange sickness and just didn't seem to be your same old self. I'm glad to see that you've fought off the bad bug, whatever it was, and you're putting on a right fine show this spring. It's nice to see.

An experienced gardening eye will tell you that the picture above right is that of a pomegranate tree. Not just any pomegranate tree mind you, but the old standby that produces only the best, sweetest and tartest of ripe, red fruit. It's called, simply enough, Wonderful. And it's a good name. Because it fits like a glove. The Wonderful Pomegranate provides the most delectable and wonderful pomegranates on the planet. And it's putting on quite the colorful show in the Bird Back 40 side yard this gardening season.

Pomegranate Buds Preparing to Bloom

I must admit, I'm breathing a big sigh of relief while watching the tree do its thing this year. Because it wasn't doing this last year. Well -- let me explain. Half of the tree put on a nice show. The other half looked pretty darn terrible. And, for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. But, count me concerned. And I had a reason to be.

It was about two years ago when a frustrated young lady contacted me via email out of the blue to ask, "where have all the pomegranates gone?" She went onto explain that all of the trees in her neighborhood that fed her pomegranate desires were barren, looked somewhat diseased and did I know of any trees around the City of Davis where she might help herself to her favorite fruit? This request caught me by surprise. Two years ago the Wonderful Pomegranate tree in the Bird Back 40 was covered with one of the largest crops it has ever produced.

A Color Show Like No Other

I remember telling this young lady that I didn't know of any diseases that were hitting backyard orchard pomegranate trees, and gave her a couple of locations to check out. I never did hear back from her, but clearly remembered her concerns last year when half of my once-healthy tree suddenly wilted during the spring bloom season, dropped quite a few leaves and didn't flower. That's right, not ONE single flower.

Color me very concerned. What was wrong with my Wonderful Pom? Had it been hit with some sort of funky disease or virus? A quick check of some online resources that I depend upon (UC Davis Fruit and Nut Information) yielded some answers -- but not the kind of problem I was experiencing. Further complicating matters were a few recent newspaper and industry reports detailing some strange disease that had struck without warning in commercial pomegranate fields. Nobody was quite sure what it was.

Emerging Pomegranates

Last year's harvest was one of the smallest I had ever encountered. Not only were the numbers curtailed, the size of the fruit was also affected. While the seeds inside the fruit that did mature were fine, the overall condition of the tree bothered me a great deal. Had I over-fertilized? Over-watered? Got a little too frisky with winter pruning efforts?

This year I adopted a "hands off" approach. While most fruit trees and vines get a small monthly allocation of fertilizer, the Wonderful Pom got nothing. The tree still received twice-weekly irrigation supplies from drip sprinklers at the base of the tree -- but not much else. I wanted to see the results of this "hands off" approach.

Honeybee At Work

Whatever was bothering the Wonderful Pom last year has, thankfully, moved on. Either that, or the tree fought it off. It is once again growing with a healthy vigor and this year's show of blooms is simply unrivaled. Although not all blooms turn into pomegranates, many of them are. And the tree continues to produce bloom buds at a surprising rate. I thought it would have eased up by now. Nope. It's showtime in the side yard and the Wonderful Pom is the star.

This is happy news, of course, to the legions of honeybees that have a home in the Bird Back 40 and elsewhere. It's not all that unusual to hear this tree buzz with excited honeybee activity. Although it's impossible to count them all, I wouldn't be surprised if that count amounted to the hundreds. Pomegranate pollen must be a prized commodity, given the honeybee activity that I've noticed day in and day out.

Wonderful Pomegranate Bloom

A heavy load of pomegranates means Bill and the wife that is Venus will be firing up a commercial brand juicer that can be found in many upscale (and some dive) bars -- especially those bars that specialize in serving drinks concocted from fresh fruits and vegetables. Pomegranates aren't easy to squeeze, but the reward is a fresh juice that is unlike any other. And from that simple juice, there are so many possibilities.

Pomegranate jelly anyone? Pomegranate punch? It's simply Wonderful. Here's looking at a healthy harvest come this fall and a healthy tree to boot.

Snap! Crackle! Pop!

Snap, Crackle and Pop Here to See You

I know what you're thinking. I really do. You saw the title of this latest blog posting and your heart sank. "Bill Bird has gone commercial," you thought. "He's traded in his heirloom tomatoes for some kid's cereal!"

The shame, the shame of it all.

But that's the furthest thing from the truth. You see, this blog posting could be named many things. It could be called "Gardening Hurts." It could also be called "Gardening Season is Over," because both titles would represent the truth. Gardening does sometimes hurt. And gardening season, although it's just now getting underway for some folks, has come to a rather abrupt end in the Bird Back 40.

Nice toes! NOT!

At least -- that's the story for crazy blog writer Bill Bird. As for the wife that is Venus? She may carry on with her seed planting ways. Her faithful husband will watch her efforts from the patio with a beer in one hand and a sad smile. For the first time in years, I cannot join her. I can only sit and watch.

You've probably guessed by now that I'm not schlepping for some kid's cereal. That "Snap, Crackle, Pop" sound I heard last weekend was all too real. Unfortunately, I didn't hear it while pouring milk onto a kid's cereal (although I wish now that I had). I heard that sound while stepping off the sidewalk in the Bird Back 40 while moving a heavy wheelbarrow load of compost to the in-ground test gardening bed. Unfortunately again, the sound came from my right foot.

That wasn't right. Did I step on something perchance? No? Is that blood? Where did that blood come from?  From me? Those are the thoughts that first crossed my mind when I suddenly dropped that wheelbarrow load of gardening product and looked down. The bottom of my ankle began to ache. Which really isn't all that strange because at my age, after a weekend full of gardening, my feet not only REEK to high heaven they are also quite sore.

Life in a BOOT that Never Comes Off

But this was a different kind of sore. And the soreness grew into a pain that had me limping back to the garage and settling into the nearest chair. Something wasn't right. It wasn't until I tried to get back up some 30 minutes later (to attempt to resume gardening no less) did my ankle let me know that things were "not OK."

The hours following my little "garden accident" are still somewhat of a blur. I blame that on the numerous emergency room doctors and nurses that I visited that evening. For each one came armed with a horse-shaped pill, a glass of water and the instructions of: "Here, take this."

Percocet Fog

Since those pills made me feel somewhat better -- I had no problem with repeating the line of: "What? Another Percocet? For me? Sure!"

I would learn later that Percocet makes you somewhat happy and somewhat groggy. I don't really remember a lot of detail from those emergency room visits and followups with the Podiatrist, except that a partially torn Achilles Tendon and an aggravated bone spur in the heel are going to keep me out of action and in a lot of pain for quite some time.

I swore off the Percocet a few days back. I'll live with the pain instead. How people get addicted to prescription pain killers I'll never know. They just make me feel groggy and play all sorts of negative havoc with my digestive system. Plus, to be honest, I don't remember the pain ever really going away. I suppose it made the pain manageable, but given a choice, I'll opt for a clear mind and a painful foot any day of the week.

Off Limits! Verbotten! Do Not Pass Go!

And so -- that's it kids. The 2014 gardening season is finished for me. My number one love of life, other than the wife that is Venus, is off limits. There will be no digging in the dirt. There will be no weeding. There will be no fertilizing, no planting of seeds, no drip irrigation repair. Zip, nada, nothing.

There will only be this damn boot on my leg, a damn sore right heel bone and a cranky gardener who can only watch while others do.

I'll be honest with you. There's not much fun in that.