Not that I want to plunge into the real scorching heat of summer that we have usually had to deal with in past years!
     Every gardening year is different in small and big ways, and this year’s winter and spring have indeed been enormously different here in my Pasadena garden, with winter’s 41 inches of rain and spring’s neverending overcast and cool temperatures that hardly ever rose above 75 degrees.  The rain fell conveniently sporadically so the soil was able to absorb all of the goodness.  The coolness enabled multiple sowings of cool-season veggies and posies but also fostered way too many exuberant weeds. 
 
Harvesting Breadseed Poppy Seeds
     My breadseed poppy plants have fully dried to the super-crisp stage appropriate for saving the seeds. 
     I held a bucket next to the pods and with my hand pruners pulled each stalk over the bucket to clip the pods so they fell into the bucket.  Only a few clipped pods flew out into the forest of dry stems; these I’m sure will come up as next year’s volunteer sprouts.
     Next step was to crush the pods into as small pieces as possible to assure that all the teeny black seeds were released from the interior walled sections of the pods. 
     Then I poured the entire contents into a fine-grid colander over another bin so the seeds would fall through the holes into the underneath bin but the pod shards would stay in the colander.  I repeatedly scooped and turned the shards in the colander with my hand until no more black seeds fell out.
     I ended up with 1 full cup of breadseed poppy seeds, and about a quart of shards. 
     I’ll save the seeds to sow next fall just before an expected rain. 
     I’ll use the shards to sprinkle over just-seeded veggie or flower beds to help anchor the seeds as I gently water them in.
 
Other Posy Activities
     My nasturtium “ocean” is finally beginning to shrivel and dry, forming a thick mulch around all of the fruit trees. 
     The bearded iris and Ferraria crispa that had bloomed so vigorously along the ramp up to the garden were thoroughly trimmed or pulled; their rhizomes and corms remaining to gather strength and mellow until next fall’s growth.
     Drumstick alliums (Allium sphaerocephalum) are beginning to bloom.  They’d so multiplied from my purchase of a dozen bulbs several years ago that last year I’d dug up the clumps and planted the single bulbs along my long driveway. Now their two-foot-tall stems are topped with their purple heads, a quite striking scene along the driveway.
     Statice (Limonium perezii) continues to seed itself down the driveway as well, with its long-lasting grand blue clusters and foliage offering attractive color and texture throughout the year.
 
Edibles
     Lots of green tomatoes promise yummy salads to come.
     Sadly, the cool weather has resulted in tart boysenberries, even though the yield was tremendous due to all the rain.
     Figs are loaded with both early breba figs (on last year’s wood) and later main crop (on this year’s wood).  We’ll see how many actually ripen enough for me to enjoy, as opposed to their getting eaten by the local squirrels and who knows what other critters.  If the cooler weather continues, I’ll be able to surround some groupings of figs with bird netting that’ll hopefully foil the critters.  Sometimes the green-when-ripe figs are allowed to ripen more fully than the purple-brown-when-ripe ones – perhaps due to a color coding clue for the critters?
     One peach tree already has been scalped of its still-green fruits, left on the ground nearby, barely munched.
     It’s finally happened – I’m sick of artichokes.  Luckily, I have only one remaining plant that still has a dozen smaller buds on it as they gradually mature.  Maybe I’ll just leave them to turn into their black-light-purple blossoms to enjoy visually instead of culinarily.
 
For garden tasks, see July.
 
For other major-topic blogs for this time of year, see Homepage.

Brugmansia in 3 colors.

Left = Artichokes ready to be harvested. Right = beautiful blossom.  Center = seed head ready to harvest.  Seeds are at the base of the "hair".

​     While every gardening year is strange contrasted to previous years – with always something weird along with the general sameness from year to year – this year’s peculiarity so far has been two-fold:  40+ inches of rain here in Pasadena, and what seems to be neverending May Gray and June Gloom. 
     During the half-dozen years of severe drought, with the average rain merely a single-digit percentage of our “regular” dozen inches, I’d gotten used to a May week of 100+ temperatures and therefore not planting a second group of tomatoes because they just didn’t survive the intensity of the rest of the summer. 
     This year, with the continuing mild temperatures in the 70s during the days and high 50s at night, I’ve made several resowings of cool-season vegetables like chard and parsley and cilantro and kohlrabi and carrots along with the summer-lovers of squash and cucumbers.  But I have yet to water the entire garden beyond spot-filling fruit tree berms, veggie beds, and of course the tomatoes. 
     The mildness has also enabled us to thoroughly enjoy the bloomers long beyond their regular tenure.  My nasturtium ocean is still looking lush and floriferous, alstroemerias are blooming out all over, and other perennials like gaura and brunfelsia are filling out and coloring up, as are roses and statice.  Even the nasturtiums that we pulled from the pathways and placed as mulch along the fruit tree rows is still perky.
  Many of the earlier-Spring bloomers are concentrating on maturing their seed pods.  As foliage takes its time enabling the roots to reabsorb its energy for next year’s seed strength, we gardeners must appreciate the dying-back browns to the absolutely crispy-crunchy maturity stage when we can finally harvest them. This means having a lot of dead stuff around, sometimes up to 6 or 8 weeks depending on the particular plant. 
  And this year, with the continuing mild temperatures and not much bright sun, it may take longer for the seed pods to achieve their full mature dryness.  The clue to the necessary absolute crispyness is whether the stem of the seedpod literally shatters as you bend it.  If it wiggles every so slightly, it’s not dry enough – so let it sit for another week at least! 
     I find it helpful to tie a paper bag around the seedhead to catch the seed as it falls.  Also, holding a bucket under the seedhead as you harvest it, especially with breadseed poppies, will help you  catch more of the seed from the “saltshaker” pods.
    
For garden tasks, see June.
 
For other major-topic blogs for this time of year, see Homepage.