Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts

November 22, 2011

Adventures in failed craft projects


I saw this idea on Pinterest, where so many half-baked craft ideas go to infect the minds of innocent Internet browsers.

A pumpkin bird feeder.

I had a few pumpkins still lying around from Halloween. I had twine. It seemed like a good idea.


It's so seasonal.


We haven't seen a single bird anywhere near it.


That's been the biggest flaw of our new pumpkin bird feeders. No birds.

The source of the Pinterest post that touched off my bird feeder lust was Dreamy Whites, and -- to her credit -- her pumpkin bird feeders look magnificent. And appear to be visited by actual birds.



So, maybe it's just me. Or maybe the birds in our yard are pumpkin-resistant? Pumpkin intolerant?

April 18, 2010

Spring




Photos from a story I wrote for our newspaper. Apple blossoms. Lovely.

August 7, 2008

a place for one's pins

In progress: two robust tomato-y pin cushions to keep the little green one company. Also, does anyone know what to do with lemon cucumbers once you've grown them? Don't get me wrong, they look nice lounging around the house, but they must be good for something.

Happening this weekend: The Bizarre Market at 205 N. Sheilds in Richmond, VA on Saturday, Aug. 9th, 11-4. Remember your sunscreen.

August 2, 2008

golden orbs

Despite the best efforts of the surrounding zealous weeds, our yellow tomatoes are gamely hanging in there, maybe even flourishing. Whew. Shortly after this photograph they were made into a lovely, briny batch of fresh salsa (heavy on the lime juice) and devoured with corn chips. mm. summer.

July 16, 2008

hang on little tomato or "when lawns attack"

The cherry tomatoes are prolific this year, the squash, unfortunately, not so much. We're fighting a losing battle against the invading (and ruthless) lawn grass. I turned my back on it for a few too many days during the wedding melee, just long enough for it to insidiously slip in and take root...and now, well, what a horticultural embarrassment. Next year: edging.