my big fat shiny cuke and grey floors

So, bye bye Indian summer. If I may digress (we already start digressing and I do not even have a strong main subject to start with.) Francesca, thanks for asking, I had always assumed it was a British-coined term stemming from colonial times. Wrong. It seems to originate in the States and it refers to the "other" so accurately (not) called Indians. Wikipedia knows all. I should assume less. Wink double wink.

So... bye bye Indian summer. Hello Dutch autumn. There's a chill in the air and the city is cloaked in Grey (that of the capital G.) However, it is not only the skies that have turned grey. So has my... drum roll... balcony floor. Ta-da! I know, who gives a flying ****? Well, I do. 
Let's digress again: I am extremely aware of the mundaneness of my posts. I had originally set off to tell everyone about extremely witty and clever stuff or, failing that, to show everyone extremely arty and quirky photographs. As it turns out, I am showing you my balcony floor and a fat cucumber. Live and learn, ei.

I am well chuffed with the result and well impressed with myself, if I may say so. I actually bought that paint approximately one and a half years ago, together with a brush and some evil product to scrub outdoor sort of floors and tiles. Slowly but surely I got there (I did not think I would ever do it.)

Last weekend, the last weekend of our Native American summer (we should really start calling it that were we to be politically correct, ha!), I decided to pull my sleeves, get some music on and paint away in the sun.

So, mundane or not, that has been my last week: fat cuke, empty balcony outside, full (of plants, pots and the like) living room inside and a two-day outing with lots of crazy (and whiny) teenagers and young adults. I had forgotten about the whole smuggling spirits into camp. Dra-ma, I am telling you. Hee hee.

So, without further ado (I do seriously digress and ramble on), pics:

How fat is that cucumber...

 

Some random pics taken last week. It is white-greyish and drizzling out there now. I shall just keep looking at these and reminiscing.

of veggies and feet. just because.

Wildlife out on the balcony. 

Cukes not in a hurry, not particularly faster than the speed of neutrinos (can you actually believe that?) However, there they are; coming along nicely. While those little toms are nearly done for the season, cukes are just starting out...

Oh yeah, sadly the once very promising radishes didn't make it in the end (serious bordeaux tints on the stems but yet, no produce) and neither did the strawberries develop any further. Oh well, it was a long shot in a pot on the balcony. That's why I'm so impressed with my stubborn cucumbers up there.

Indian summer, bring it on!

On another note: feet. Other than now and again updating my "ninja for all seasons" slide show on the right, last week I realised I had not been posting many ninja feet pics lately. To remedy that, here you have some ninja feet shots taken in Barcelona (mon amour) in July. Just because.

tiempo de tomates... y pepinos

All right, peeps.
It has been a while since I last bored you with my little toms but... here we are again.
Ding dong. Tomato time.

 

Only, this "harvest" time round, I have also just spotted teeny tiny cukes under the big leaves and flowers of the cucumber plant.

I cannot believe it is working. Cucumbers growing on my balcony! (Even though, in my green-fingered enthusiasm, I nearly drowned them the other week upon coming back from hols.)

They have come a long way (here, here and here). They have.

Look at the little hairy buggers go. Yay.

 

Oh yeah, I still have to figure out what to do about the miniature olives...

erratic is the word

 

 

 

So, erratic it is, and will continue to be. This ninja is no regular, organised, disciplined blogger. Oh well, no news there.

Cheers to the generous soul who gave me some book vouchers for my 40th b-day (at least, I assume they were for me; they were simply sitting around and it was my partee, so I took them.) I never had the chance to say thank you but I got myself a book called "Forty". How about that.

Look at the lovely flowers my future potential cucumbers were sporting a couple of weeks ago (they have more flowers now, but I have not taken any more pics.) Good sign, innit?

Also, those wooden boxes are temporary mini allotments of sorts (for what I can gather.) They have appeared on an empty plot pending development in the neighbourhood, together with a grassy play area. What a fantastic, green use of empty city space. Liking this urban farmers lark, if a tad enigmatic to me (stadsboeren.org)

Over and out. At least, until next erratic ninja brief. 


p.s. The sign on the bookshop window reads something on the lines of "We strongly recommend you urgently read this book". Ha.

is la ninja watercolour-ish or just plain murky?

According to this site, which I came across via this other one, the above are this blog's colours. Murky, I would say.

How are you all doing?

It looks like I may be able to make extra virgin olive oil, after all. Pics of incipient teeny tiny olives coming soon. The cucumber plant is also blooming. Hooray. Don't you just love it when you leave home for a few days and come back to flowers and stuff. Yes.

p.s. I also had to set a small colony of little flies free (don't ask, I don't know) but hey, no more mice. Setting up another cage in a minute, let's see how many are still scurrying around under the floor boards, the buggers. 
It feels like National Geographic here, what with all the fauna and flora.

a late box of tricks and growth. slowly but surely.

Hullo everybody. I cannot believe I have missed this week's corner view! Hang, on, let me rephrase that... I have surely missed my good share of corner views over the years. I am pretty crap at continuity. 

Right, that established, back to what I meant to say, which is that I cannot believe I missed this corner view in particular. I mean, box of tricks-cajón desastre. Potato-potato. Tomato-tomato.

Boo hoo. Silly ninja. Again, a stupidly overdue cv for this week. Adding insult to injury, I am also recycling an old post. An introduction to la ninja, a box of tricks, a lazy way out? Whatever you choose to make out of it. I am easy, like Sunday morning. Here: la ninja bloguera.

Right, onto greener pastures or, rather greener balconies (which I have just cleaned after weeks of neglect, rain and bleh weather.) Got a fright by a "giant" moth living behind some sticks and found a few rolled-up and dead caterpillars on the radishes. Is that a good sign? 

A few more interrogatives (sorry, I know, long time no ninja and now here I am bombarding you with questions): 

How long does it take a cucumber to actually grow? 

Are those radishes ready at all? 

Why are the bloody jays eating my strawberries? The bastards.

The olive tree has bloomed for the first time in about 4 years. (Hooray.) Do you reckon I shall be able to make extra vergine olive oil soon? Ha.
Last but not least... After all these years up North, will my feet ever tan again?

 

 

Have a lovely rest of Sunday, people of the Interwebs. At least those in my hemisphere and time zone. The rest of you, I hope you have had/will have a lovely one too. (What a malarkey this globalisation business is.)

the art of procrastination and massive cucurbits in the making

My middle name is Crastination, Pro Crastination. I like that. I read it somewhere a while ago and it stuck. (It's not mine, no credit taking when it's not due. Contrary to common belief, ninjas are honest and fair beings.)

Anyway, I shall not get into details (ninjas are also rather reserved) but it seems the more time I have, the less I achieve. I have been perfecting procrastination forever. I excelled at it at university, when I used to have chats with the Head of the Department about writer's block, Joseph Conrad, writing essays in English as a foreigner, whatever... My mates could not believe I managed to get an extension for every-single-essay I had to hand in. I always celebrated by going out and procrastinating some more. Of course.

Well, peeps, if you are reading, I am still crap or, rather, pretty good at it. So, without further ado, here is a procrastinating post on green stuff. See? I told you, anything but writing a report (or the three I am already behind with. Tra la la la la.) Oh yeah, I also bought a beautiful old wardrobe and have decided to organise the house (it used to be redecorating my student room back then, it is redecorating my whole apartment right now.) Same old pattern. Pathetic and weak. Boo hoo.

Right, self-therapy session over (sorry, needed to, I'll go back to jolly superficial now), quickly onto green stuff and then work. Yay... not. (Or in true, if a tad trite, Conradian fashion: The horror, the horror... not that I exaggerate or anything.)

On another note, I am having a sort of green boo-boo moment. 

I have realised the whole growing cucumbers on the balcony may not actually be such a good idea. My mum told me on the phone last week and someone had already mentioned it before... Those babies crawl on the ground and grow in vines. I knew that (didn't I?) So, what the ding dong (ramalamadingdong) was I thinking of? Oh well... 

First stop is re-potting the cukes and the radishes (this weekend). But, to make matters more interesting, I have also heard from friends -the ones who gave me the tomato plant last year, have a garden and seem to know what they are doing, that I have been a crazed carried-away green ninja and should NOT have just used up all the seeds in one go. I have to replant them individually now, sprout by sprout, and that's going to be a pain and a half.

Oops. Again. I hope I don't kill too many.

Here they are. Pics starting last week. Last one taken just now and those cucurbits are pressing on now. Winning hands down.

I have now added strawberries to the lot (mini clay pot in the middle.) If I'm starting a whole bleeding allotment on the balcony, I might as well do it properly and make the bugger collapse. Ha.

 

p.s. For some serious green-fingered action and already edible radishes, have a look at this professional outdoorsy one doing her thing.

pressing on...

Radishes to the right... Stand up and salute.

Cukes to the left... Whatever.

And Now For Something Completely Different

Right, I don't normally interact much through questions and stuff but I have been meaning to ask this for a bit: What the hell do you lot do with comments? Is there a commentiquette at all?

The reason I ask is because I am rather flaky and even though I read every single one of them, I do not often reply. I have also noticed that barely no-one (and I am including me) goes back to see whether a conversation has started. Ever.

Answers on a postcard, please. Cheers.

what's for lunch?

Yes. What IS for lunch?

This is not my kitchen counter but one I totally, totally love. 

Do you see that very handsome oil container? I bought it myself as a present and I have serious anti-drip oil container envy now. 

It is a well-known Catalan design (by Rafael Marquina) and I seriously need one for my kitchen. Next time I go home, I am getting myself one too. Lunch has to be well-dressed ;)

What is for lunch, then? Dunno. Not my kitchen.

Lots of corner views somewhere over here.

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That was my corner view, which I had ready last week, one week early. Basically because I cannot read and because I have the attention span of a mosquito. It said clearly on Francesca's post. Oh well.

However, this week you get the original corner view plus some free ninja sprouty and springy silliness. Both literally as well as figuratively.
Here goes:

What had I told you; both spring-like and stretchy at once (plus some blurry pics to boot.)

I noticed something going on in that right container when I entered the room and, upon inspection, it was clear my seedlings were making the earth move. Some feisty little contenders we have there. Hooray.

I had obviously covered the radish seeds with far too much soil and they were pushing it up (green-fingered ninja, not.) As it happens, I had also forgotten to label them, so it is good to see who is living where.

Cucumbers seem to be a tad cooler (how else could it be, ei?) However, I had a peek and they will hopefully be joining their neighbours soon enough.

So, what's for lunch? Radish-cucumber salad, anyone?

last of the summer vine

Last pics of the toms, I promise.
Well, this is it, really. These are the last of the crop, so I have no choice but to leave both them and you well alone... Until next year, that is.

This city ninja had no idea she could have so much fun growing cherry tomatls home. Hooray. Live and learn. 
Now I'm off onto the grey streets to just aimlessly cycle about, enjoy the city buzz on a Saturday afternoon and do a few errands. All before I jump on a train to meet some lovely ex colleagues I haven't seen (one of them at least) in about 10 years.

Woo hoo. Not bad for a grey November Saturday, I'd say.

Et voilà, les toms. Last suicidal action earlier this week, and what the plant is looking like these days (about to be moved back out onto the balcony, where it belongs.)

 

you say tomato, I say tomatl

Still at it. The ones I've had so far were delish. Tra la la.

Origin: Alteration of earlier tomate, from Spanish, from Nahuatl tomatl. First Known Use: 1604. (Merriam-Webster)

Not just potatls we plundered, you see. Tomatls too.

one tomato, two tomatoes, three tomatoes, four

The tomato plant has been moved indoors. It is in the kitchen now and hopefully those little tomatoes can keep growing now they are more sheltered. I am determined to make myself a bloody salad this autumn (and as I have to walk sideways in that kitchen now, they better be worth it.)

What gave me hope was that the suicidal tomato has been changing colours. I just left it on the windowsill and, much to my amazement (and the amusement of friends who came over for dinner), it is red now. I was informed that of course it has ripened; same thing that happens with fruit and veg you buy a bit on the green side at the shops. Those have also been picked prior to their ideal consumption time and keep ripening while on the move in their crates, at the greengrocer's, at home in my fruit bowl. Do'h. Stupid ninja.

Anyway... The mini tomato saga continues. Watch this space (should you be into this sort of nonsensical waste of your time, that is.) Ta.

green fingers... yup. from squashing bloody caterpillars, like.

I really keep trying my best at this greenery-growing-on-the-balcony-lark. But the bloody evil green caterpillars keep coming back (and I have moved house) to eat up my bloody plants. Bloody hell, I had to get rid of my basil, chives, parsley and lavender yesterday. For chrissake, I'm not the best of urban gardeners as it is. This is not helping.

So, apart from crunching (bollocks) and unsuccessfully (bollocks) trying to replant the broken (bollocks) branch where one tiny little cherry tom was starting to appear (double bollocks), I reckon I've saved the tomato plant.

It was given to me about two weeks ago. This is me carrying it on the bike basket that night.
Quality photography. Warning: It may cause drowsiness.

I was in motion, so was the bike and there was no light.
However, it is much better than the first one I tried to take. Look:

Wey hey. How pretty is that! My bike light going all sparkle mad.

This is what one end of the balcony looked like last week (I wanted to show the extremely impressive growth of above-pictured plant to its generous previous owners.)

Anyway, the tomato plant is a good 10 cm. higher now (that's about 4" for you non-metric nutters) minus one branch sporting one minute tomatito plus a bunch of squiggly green bastard caterpillars.

Bastard things, trying to charm me with their circus flourishes and curlicues. They had to go. Unfortunately all my herbs had to go with them. Bastards.

Well, I'm happy the olive tree is going strong and so is the black-eyed Susan vine. I also planted some random flowers that were supposed to be coming out by now, but haven't seen much colourful progress on those yet. Oh well... End of boring green post. Nearly.

I reckon next time I see caterpillars I'm going to try and pimp them just like Antonia does her snails (always in a responsible and well-informed manner, bien sur.) Any ideas? Aimee? Jen? You wouldn't happen to have any random tutorials on the subject kicking about, would you?

You say tomato, I say tomato.

mis plantitas

Ages ago, I had threatened a certain Miss Gardener Extraordinaire to show her a pic of my plants when she posted this one. She's been posting a lot on herbs and the like lately (I absolutely dig this drawing) so I thought I'd be a ninja of my word and finally show her mine. Well, you know what I mean.



So there. First one wearing slippers and pjs in my very untidy balcony. That basil's still going strong, by the way. What's more, it's blooming. In November!
I'm still totally clueless about the whole planting thing. Mine just do what they want, honestly. See here and here and, okay here if you're not already bored to death (which you should be by now), for proof. (Proof that I haven't got the foggiest about what I'm doing, that is.)

Second one, a lovely lovely suzanne met de mooie ogen (black-eyed susan) vine that I got as a present from the boy in June and that I managed to kill off in about a month. Great.

I went to the shop after re-potting it and seeing that things were still not looking good, and was told "no direct sunlight". Oh poo. Too late. That's exactly where it'd been all the time.

To replace it, I'm buying one myself next June but this time I'll get the instruction manual too.

Last pic. Love that spraying that plant with water created an invisible still life of sorts on the balcony table. (By the way, that one came full of green and ugly caterpillars, the bastards. However, I managed to get rid of them and save it. Yay. At least one successful rescue in that balcony. Go Green Ninja, go).

Okay, off to break a wall now. No, really. With a big hammer and a golden stone chisel. That's what we do around here on a Sunday morning. It's late enough to make the neighbours crazy, right? Right. There we go.

la petite (pissed off) botaniste

Yesterday spring really seemed to have sprung. I noticed the second batch of bulbs I had planted back in November was coming out (one big pot, three sorts of bulb, three layers, three depths). They are bloody tiny but still... Result!!!

Suddenly, I remembered about the herbs I was given in a bar one night during the Xmas hols back home... yup! It's actually much less dodgy than it sounds. Some bizarre promotion was going on at 3am: by drinking a particular brand of gin you got one of this ready-to-grow-herbs-in-a-sachet. I am not a gin drinker but, somehow, ended up taking two of these packs home even though I spent all night drinking caipiroscas... Perhaps that was precisely the reason! ; ) Anyway, it had totally slipped my mind that I had chucked them in an empty plant pot in the balcony until yesterday. I cannot stress this enough but it really looked like spring was here so, emboldened as I was by the apparent bulb success, I decided to put my green fingers on once more and give them a go. (Not that it is really that hard: you simply cut the top off, throw the seeds in, cover, water them and ta-da! But hey, still requires an effort).

However, I'm not sure the gale force winds whipping through the house as I type, together with the hail aggressively pattering on the window panes, are a good sign. Winter's back with a passion (the bastard!) but I really really hope it's not taking my (very very first) mini envelope herb garden away. Come on, I'm really trying to sort that balcony out! Working my gardening gloves off here!!!