Turns out, lucky me, four hours might be the perfect steeping time. The first thing that hits the tongue is a gingery heat, then the bergamot spice kicks in; down the throat I got a faint hint of rose, then the orange takes over. It's a very interesting flavor, over ice with just a sprinkle of sugar. I didn't want to try honey for the first glass, because honey has a flavor all its own, but I'm going to try it later today.
First few minutes outside...
Four hours later, and a nice golden tea color...
My attempt at growing watermelon has failed. I don't know why exactly, other than a string of really cold nights shortly after I planted the poor wee things. No matter how I tried to keep them going, they just shriveled up and died.
Yesterday I bought cukes. Two really nice, healthy plants. I put them in the raised bed recently vacated by the melons and they already look like they've found a home.
While I was planting, then watering, I glanced over at the other two beds where I've gotten a bit carried away with zucchini, and whoa!! Is that what I think it is??
Big, beautiful flowers, and hey, look!! A little zucchini just poking through the leaves...
I lifted a big leaf out of the way in the other raised bed...and found an even bigger zucchini already taking shape.
I'm not used to things growing so fast. Comes from living with Scottish weather and a very short season. I also forgot that I could end up with lots and lots of zucchini when all is said and done. Now, I do love a good zucchini bread, but if I get a major crop, I'm going to have to figure out what else to do with it. I'm pretty sure the boys will want to pass on zucchini for their doggy dinners. Although...hmmmm.
My two San Marco tomato plants are slowly--very slowly--starting to grow. They don't like cold nights either, but now that it's getting hot and humid during the day, and the nights are warm, they should take off. I hope. Because I'm really looking forward to making lots of sauce to freeze for the Winter.
One final moment in my garden...
The California Poppy is considered a weed in my part of the world. It's prolific and spreads easily. Last year the only poppies on the ridge were on my neighbor's back slope. When he mowed down all the greenery--leaving a barren wasteland that looked horrible for the rest of the Summer--little did I know this was going to happen:
Call me a weed lover. Go ahead, I don't mind. The poppies keep blooming and blooming, they look wonderful around the bird bath, and are too lovely to exterminate.
I've given the poppies sanctuary in my garden, they've given me beauty. More than a fair trade.
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