Frost bites

The Spokane paper said last night would be the cold night of the week. The paper got it wrong by one day. In fact, I think it's much warmer this morning than it was yesterday. Some of that may have to do with the fact that our forced air furnace is on the blink, and I could almost see my breath in this house yesterday morning.

We've been trying to get someone to look at it for almost two weeks, but this local housing boom seems to be keeping everyone associated with any kind of construction overloaded with work. So, we'll keep bundling up until someone comes or until we feel safe lighting a fire in the wood stove for the first time.

Forced air furnaces wouldn't have done anything to help my squash, cucumbers, tomatoes and some of my flowers against Mother Nature's killer cold breath the night before last. That silver linen-like film extending across the lawn yesterday morning gave me an additional hint that the first and last frost of summer had hit over night. Today's autumn, right? So, we've yet to see the first frost of this new season.

By early afternoon, the full extent of the damage to my plants became apparent. They got zapped just like I do at the Hair Hut. In fact, in some cases, their new do even resembled the reverse frost I get every two months---in the garden, a certain but minimal amount of resilient green still revealed itself beneath the yucky, black telltale signs of Death to planthood. Fortunately, I don't wither up at the Hair Hut after a zapping quite like my squash plants did.

Knowing it was useless to retrieve those four skinny little cucumbers that finally managed to appear on the vines of my fourth attempt at planting this year, I didn't even bother to grieve over their loss. It was kinda sad, though, to think the tomatoes would have to come inside where no longer would rays from the warm sun help them turn bright red or, in one case this year, yellow.

In May, I brought home some unique brands of tomato plants up from our friend Betty Munis' house in Boise. One was a New Zealand variety--don't know which, but some are elongated rather than round. Some look like enlarged acorns, while the others are shaped like jalapeno peppers. Those are the yellow ones.

As I think of Betty (she's the head of the Idaho Forest Products Commission), I'll have to display a photo on this blog to show off the dozens of varieties she and David harvested from their supreme gardens behind their Warm Springs house in Boise. Unbelievable. They were so proud of their bounty that they even hosted a tomato tasting party.

This morning, I have a large bag of tomatoes inside my house, all of varying shades of green, yellow or red. They've been severed from their umbilical cords, thanks to Mother Nature, so I'll do my best to mother them along toward total ripeness. Yesterday, I also picked my corn and my beautiful Walla Walla Sweet onions, as well as the few tiny zucchini which were on their way to ballooning on the vine.

This was a great year for tomatoes, potatoes, corn, onions, and carrots. But forget it with those cucumbers. Last year, I couldn't charm even one tomato into coming to full maturity without some blight eating away at its green skin before I'd ever get a chance to take a bite. Last year, I also picked more than 500 cucumbers and canned dozens of jars of delicious pickles. I also froze more than 50 quarts of green beans besides the thousands I gave away. This year---maybe ten quarts on the same number of rows.

So, I guess that's how it goes from year to year with gardening in North Idaho. We can never count on Mother Nature to deal us the same hand. But whatever she lets us enjoy from our gardens, it's much appreciated.