The year before, it sprang and ran.

And this year’s just a bewildering, disconcerting, and unsettling mess of a spring. These travel-stressed and sunlight-starved Celebrities made their debut just yesterday. But we’re looking at an 88 degree afternoon. Which is hot. Too hot, POD thinks. When the heat of the day hits, they’ll be coming inside for an afternoon rest. (Thanks, Endurer.)

Which is, you know, insane.

made in michigan

Evidently, Gurney’s decided that it was time to plant, even though the pages of this blog indicate that we’re running more than a month early. These Celebrity seedlings arrived on Wednesday, and after a few days acclimating to daylight after their darkened journey, they’re finding a new home this afternoon. Much like their new minder, these starlets were made in Michigan, my friends.

celebrity seedlings

What does a toddler’s discharge have to do with the health and well-being of the little blue deck? Everything, it seems. It’s like the deck doesn’t exist, let alone the computer upon which the deck is rendered public. All that matters is saline solution, honey, vomit dodging, and sleeping. This morning, though, despite a shocking lack of sleep and an abundance of the aforementioned symptoms, the deck’s disarray was too much for this sniffling gardener to handle. So while little Ms. Typhoid and her similarly afflicted father departed for the store and the playground, the deck got some half-assed love.

The final tomatoes were plucked and sad, tired plants were bagged. A smattering of cucumber beetles got smushed, just for the heck of it, and the C. Borealis (AKA french orange hybrid melon) upon which they were feasting gave up its last fruit.

What containers remain have been haphazardly scatter-seeded with lettuce, winter cress (AKA creasy creens courtesy of Bartram’s Garden), radishes, kale, and kohlrabi (courtesy of Startin Yer Garten).

It shames this gardener to admit it, but nearly a dozen White Wonder cucumbers got composted after slowing deflating in the crisper into a gushy goo and a half dozen others are still withering away in the office fridge (come on, colleagues, eat up!). Over 40 cucumbers, all told, were harvested from a single vine. And, despite early reports of a dry, squashy texture and flavor, later-season fruits weren’t too bad.

And it was with great delight that over 15 pounds of tomatoes were plucked. Fret not, none of those went to waste. They weren’t the prettiest girls at the party (as you can see above), but we’re firm believers here at POD that it’s what’s under the pock-marked skin that matters. And these particular ladies were pretty dreamy in this simple, no-frills sauce.

Still, you’ll hear no complaints here. This has been a great summer for POD and with any luck, those vacated pots will be seeded with peas, chard and lettuce before the weekend is out.

The cucumbers are still pouring in — at last count: Spacemaster: 14, Adam F1: 13 (RIP), White Wonder: 32. That’s not a typo, people. Nearly nine pounds of tomatoes and counting!  Not to mention 20 adorable (and strangely hot) little poblanos, gobs of basil, herbs, chard, and two delightful C. Borealis melons.

Squirrels? They suck, but they’ve sucked much less this year than usual. See that tomato on the railing (squint, you’ll see it, top right)? You’d think the least the greedy SOB could do is finish the thing.

Like, for instance, the “petite” Patio Princess Hybrid and the supposedly 18″ Tomande. In POD’s case, evidently, we’re talking a well-endowed plus-size petite and a 36-inch 18″er… Both of which toppled over one recent gusty day.

As caging tomatoes after they’ve hit maturity is pretty much like telling a rabidly teething one-year-old that she doesn’t really want to chew on that piece of grubby-feet-spiced rubberized mulch from the playground’s “ground,” your best bet is to cage or stage every damn tomato the minute they hit the ground in May or June.

So noted.

The cucumbers are still pouring in — at last count: Spacemaster: 8, Adam F1: 13 (RIP), White Wonder: 18

And today? Today? We’re up to four pounds of tomatoes and counting!  Not to mention 15 adorable little poblanos, gobs of basil, and great handfuls of green beans.

Ah, August.

“I’m glad to hear that you are seeing fruit on your plants, so things must be improving somewhat. In regards to the 8 lb potting soil, I have performed basic testing on a sample pulled from our current inventory. What I found is that the pH range was running 7.2 to 7.9 which is higher than what most vegetable prefer. This in combination with finding salt levels ranging from 2.52 to 3.22 is likely where your issues rest. [This company] would never use herbicides that would prolong in the raw materials and cause the symptoms that were viewed in your attachment. The plant response you are experiencing is likely due to nutrient imbalance and high pH and salt levels.

I have kept our office informed of my test results on the 8 lb potting soil and will make a final recommendation once a full nutrient analysis is completed at a commercial laboratory. That testing will take about a week to see back results. At that time I will forward those findings to you for your review.

 My apologies to you on this less than expected product performance. We hope that we can resolve this matter so you can continue to count on [this company] as a dependable supplier of potting soils.”

Soooooo, if your soil runs a pH too high for veggies, why are veggies pictured on the bag? And high sodium levels? That’s bad news. So yeah, that could mess things up.

HERBICIDES!

Oh, the irony of ironies. The plants sowed so lovingly in the expensive, Pennsylvania-produced organic soil have all curled, withered, and in some cases, died. (Take a look at this University of Nebraska link for a doppelganger of POD’s tomatoes.) In the Tomande’s case, the stunted plant has just begun to flower and fruit. A little. The MiracleGro Tomande is more or less (more on the less later) a brut.

How can this be, you ask? Well, the contamination route could have gone something like this: hay is sprayed with pyridine carboxylic acid (a broadleaf herbicide), that hay is applied on crops as mulch (or composted and applied to “enrich” the soil) and those crops are then composted and incorporated into organic soil. OR, herbicide is sprayed on hay, and because hay is for horses, the horses eat it. Said horses shat and that manure ends up in “organic” soil.

The manufacturer has been contacted and a couple of outside sources have been consulted as well. Updates, we hope, to follow.