I’m still grasping firmly to summer as if it will never go away, but the fact of the matter is the seasons are changing. It’s a lot more comfortable to hang out in my apartment than it was a month ago, and there’s a tree on my street that persists in changing its leaves to yellow. Football season is underway (Go Hawkeyes!) and there’s actually a night this week where the temperatures are forecast to get down to 34 degrees.
In the garden, I’m trying to make a bunch of educated decisions, but I have a hard time ruthlessly ripping up plants. It just seems unfair not to give them another chance. And another. And another. Usually it requires full-on, total plant death to prod me to actually make a final call. I guess I just like to let the plants decide instead of me.
I had, however, decided to rip up the bean plants. They’re all raggedy and chewed-upon, some by bugs, some by animals, and while I did get at least two lovely harvests off them, and still occasionally get a bean or two to snack on, I had pretty much decided they were done.
And then I went out expressly to yank them, and found several plants with bean flowers on them. Now, logically, I know that there is no way these bean plants are going to make it from flower to bean before it starts to get too cold for them. But I have a soft spot in my heart for plants that are still flowering, and therefore, I caved.
The bean plants get to stay. For now. But if the flowers drop off or disappear, that’s it for the season.