An Edible Bouquet: Four Seasons Lettuce

Photo by Davin Risk  All Rights Reserved

Today’s photo was taken by Davin.

Yesterday was the first day of summer (YES!), which just happens to be coinciding with the near end to some of the roof lettuce. As I was harvesting a couple of heads that were starting to get bitter, I noticed how much this head of ‘Four Seasons’ lettuce looked like a bouquet and asked Davin to take a picture of me holding it like one.

Don’t you think it could work as an alternative wedding bouquet? How about a smaller head as a boutonniere? If I were to suddenly decide to stop living in sin (16 years and counting!) I would totally do this. Maybe with a couple more heads of lettuce thrown in. Then we’d wash it up and serve it at the reception.

Someone do this! Someone go to the prom wearing this as a wrist corsage. Send me a picture when you do.

Related: Make an edible chive bouquet.

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Happy Summer Solstice, 2009

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

In celebration of the advent of summer, my partner Davin replaced the chalkboard portion of this frame with a new one (the old had become warped from a year spent outdoors) and made the first drawing of the season. Our goal this year is to document all the drawings on the board with a photo. We didn’t do that last year and subsequently lost any record of some brilliant drawings.

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved
This first drawing was inspired by the collection of pots set on the table underneath the chalkboard (the shadiest part of the roof). Here’s what it looks like hung above them. Most of the plants sitting on that table are greens, lettuce, and violas that have been shifted to less intense heat and sun regions of the roof as a way to extend their life a little bit longer. We still have a ton of lettuce going and can’t possibly eat it all at once! Most of the remaining plants are occupying space underneath taller plants that provide a little bit of respite from the heat and are in larger pots that stay moist longer.

I wrote more about making a chalkboard for the garden when we came up with it on a whim last year. This year we picked up two chalk pastel pencils at our local art supply store Woolfit’s that allow you to draw much thinner lines than a typical piece of chalk. They’re so great and easy to use that we plan to get more in a wide variety of colours.

More chalkboard drawings (2008): Swiss chard, We Want Sun, Rain, No Squirrels, Flowers, in progress, torture and waterboarding.

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Orange Horned Poppy

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

This is the flower of the horned poppy (Glaucium flavum), another from Barry’s garden.

It’s a stunning flower, but what I really like about this plant are the blue/green leaves. They have a very interesting shape and structure, and are covered with tiny hairs. They’re the kind of leaves Karl Blossfeldt would have photographed. I checked my book shelf and they’re not in there, but that’s not to say he didn’t, just that they aren’t in the book I have.

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Fleabane (Erigeron)

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

I photographed this flower growing in one of the other plots at the community garden. There are so many fleabanes, I can’t say which one this is with absolute certainty, although I’ll guess daisy fleabane (Erigeron annuus).

I’ve come to this conclusion by the following logic: common fleabane (Erigeron philadelphicus) is a much shorter plant, and horseweed (Erigeron canadensis) has greenish-white flowers rather than pink. This according to my wildflower bible, “National Audubon Society Field Guide to Wildflowers Eastern Region“.

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Feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium)

Photo by Gayla Trail  All Rights Reserved

I took this photo at my community garden just yesterday where I have a couple of feverfew plants growing. I don’t use them for anything, but like the pretty little flowers. Unfortunately, what I do not like is the invasive nature of this plant and the fact that I have to pull out millions of tiny seedlings in the spring.

And yet I can’t muster up the will to pull them all out. Which means I can expect millions more next spring. And the spring after that.

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