For anyone who somehow managed to miss the weather yesterday, I took this picture at school. I think it pretty much sums it up. I was not foolish enough to attempt to carry an umbrella, but many people at my school were, and thus most of the trash cans I passed walking back to my car looked like this one.
Although my umbrella was safely stowed in the back of my car, my garden was not so Lucky. Natomas is generally windy anyways, but yesterday was like a scene from the Wizard of Oz. I guess it was a good thing I ripped up a few of my tomato plants on Sunday. It was easier than coming through and trying to clean up the destruction.
Here is a bit of a rundown of my casualties. My borage, which was happy and healthy on Monday, has started turning a sickly shade of brown and slumped over the side of it's pot. Perhaps a Syrian native isn't going to like the cold wet winter. The wind knocked over my corn, but at least that was a failed experiment anyways. It also knocked over the jewel of my garden, a giant pear tomato plant that was at least seven feet wide and five feet high. It was so big I had to tie its branches to my fence to keep them from taking over the rest of the garden. I'd been putting off taking a picture of its gloriousness, and now alas, it is too late. A large portion of the top half of the plant was ripped off the fence by the wind and now lies in a tangled mess. The wind also attempted to blow over my Roma which, while pretty shaken up, stood it's ground. Perhaps it helped that the yellow pear tomato fell on top of it and held it more or less in place! You can't see much of it in this picture, but my peter pan squash also looks a bit miffed at being so abused yesterday.
The only plants that seem happy by this turn of events are my greens. My more mature kale, spinach and chard seemed tickled to death that they got to bath in cold water all day. Even the brand new seedlings I'd just planted on Sunday seemed to come through the whole thing unscathed. I guess now I really have to tear the last bit of summer out of my garden, and commit to my winter crop.