Boo, I grew Cherokee Trail of Tears a couple years ago. They did stay pretty short through most of July, and then they took off like Rockets! I got a nice crop out of them. I've been getting rain, but thankfully not too much. I'm lucky with the weather most of the time. Sometimes the patterns go haywire though, and I get bizarre/bad weather. I live in the lane between the two lake patterns. Often times you can be at my house and see the line of clouds to the north and south, and have it clear here. So unless a storm or cloud cover is massive, I miss the brunt of it. Of course when it is a really dry summer, I'm talking to the cloud begging them to move over this way! Remy

It's my second year vegetable gardening as well, and I'm loving it! If only the sun would come out! Fruit Trees: *Cherries *Melrose apple *Redfree apple *Peaches *blueberries (multiple varieties) In raised beds: *Lettuce/greens: black seeded simpson, green oak leaf, red deer tongue, Australian yellowleaf, cracoviensis, rouge d'hiver, merlot, arugula, spinach *Tomatoes: black giant, black, bali, red russian, eva purple ball, russian 117, yellow peach, stupice *Peppers: gypsy, jalapeno *Winter squash: small sugar pumpkin, potimarron, musquee de provence *Summer squash: ronde de nice *Beans: vermont cranberry, rattlesnake, purple, jacob's cattle, agate soybean *Peas: green arrow *Carrots: dragon, atomic red, scarlet nantes *Onions: rossa di milano, generic white sets *Potatoes (in wine buckets): russian blue, french fingerling, alaskan sweetheart, caribe, german butterball *Cucumbers: lemon, armenian, boothby's blonde, straight eight, tondo di manduria Herbs: *greek oregano *italian parsley *lemon thyme *rosemary *mint *cilantro *garlic chives Still to go in: *Rosa bianca eggplants (under lights) *Genovese & Christmas basil (under lights) *Long Island Improved Brussel Sprouts (from seed) Beans: Rossa di Milano onion: Greens:

My garden is not your garden, and for that, you should be grateful. Any garden, yours or mine, begins not with the plants, but with the soil which dictates what plants will thrive, and what plants will eventually be pulled up and thrown away. My soil is sand. Not sandy, mind you, but deep, granular sand. Broken bits of pine straw from years of mulching infiltrate this sand several inches deep, along with leaf litter from the many overhanging oak trees. The microorganisms in the ground have been at work in my garden far longer than I have, and as a result of their endless task of digesting plant and animal residues, the sand has, in some places, where moisture from a coveted irrigation system aids their work, actually attained an appearance of soil. I am not fooled. Neither are the worms, which should abound in a proper garden, but forsake my ground for the amended beds next door. My garden is shady. I value the oaks more than the flowers that would replace them, and so I make do with foliage plants that are happy with the filtered light. A single clump of Evergreen Giant liriope, not a border or a mass, but a single clump, flourishes here. A vivid magenta cordyline called Red Sister lives in a blue ceramic pot smack dab in the middle of that shady bed, lending a surprise of color amidst the greenery. Seasonal color comes from the agapanthus, which I prize more for its elegant strap leaves than for its funny blue flowers, and more seasonal color comes from the beautiful firespike. The brilliant red flowers of the firespike are complimented by its large, glossy green leaves, and brighten a shade corner magnificently during the cool days of fall and winter. My garden is home to sago and coontie, both from the ancient family of cycads. House plants have settled into the garden as well, airplane plants and peace lilies and the occasional bromeliad, planted there in an effort to save them from my in-door negligence. My garden, whats left of it now, tolerates an occasional salt-water bath. Hurricane Dennis taught me an invaluable lesson in what to plant on a barrier island. Plants I thought would make it didnt, and plants I wouldnt have bet on came through without so much as a wilted leaf. A low bird bath sits among the foliage in my garden, outfitted with a fountain which drips fresh water into it every time the irrigation runs. The ground birds love this fountain especially, and I have spied the occasional butterfly perched there as well, sipping from the shallow cup. At the base of the bird bath, a miracle grows in the form of a maidenhair fern. This little beauty thrived before the hurricane, with its fine, black stems and delicate leaves. I relate ferns to deeply wooded glades and rich, humus soil, and the fact that this plant has been happy in my sand garden is, to me, a miracle. My garden is a work in progress, which is probably the definition of anyones garden. Life there begins with the microorganisms invisible to my eye, and is endless. It supports plants and birds and salamanders, and doesnt even mind an occasional visit from the dog. Instead of raking the leaves out, now, I rake them in, and cover them with more pine straw so they wont blow away. Someday, I am confident, I will turn over a shovel of sand to fit in another plant and find a worm in my garden. I live for the day. 603 words. Brief, I ain't.

10" is pretty thick!!! you need it to get water to break down, so I wouldn't put cardboard (even soaked) on top of it now. Leaves are basically carbon, and to break it down faster it needs moisture and nitrogen... things like grass clippings and green stuff that we don't have now. When I want to break down lots of leaves fast in the compost bin, and I don't have lots of 'greens' (nitrogen) to mix in, I add watered-down urine. Really -- it works. :) ETA: urine is rich in nitrogen.