Which Of These...?

Day 359: Which of these objects is unlike the others? Or more to the point, why is it different? I was not expecting to find a 1" diameter berry on my hardy kiwis when I went out to pick a snack yesterday, but now that the leaves are beginning to fall, it's easier to see the fruit. Yes, I'm still learning the Art of the Kiwi, and have discovered that the berries come readily off the vine when they're ripe, even dropping to the ground of their own accord. Last year, I figured out that they don't really start to ripen until the leaves begin changing colour. This year, I noticed that the stems of the fruit start to wither and turn brown to signal their readiness for picking. But what happened here? Where did the big berry come from? You may recall that I originally planted two "Issai" vines, purportedly self-fertile, but not very interested in doing their job. Consequently, I planted a male/female pair of "Clark" and "Anna" so that I would at least stand some small chance of getting fruit, and hoping that "Clark" might also fertilize "Issai." I think it did. I think this one larger fruit is from "Issai." Okay, time for a re-think. I will abandon my plans to remove "Issai" and will see if I can encourage a leg of "Clark" to intertwine with it. And I'm wondering if, as more leaves drop, I might find a few more "Issai" bonuses.

Flavour Burst

Day 350: Hardy kiwis have been a "learn as you go" project for me. I have finally figured out when they should be harvested without having to resort to buying a refractometer. The stems of the berries will wither and turn dark brown/black, and the berry will release from the stem easily. And wow, what a flavour burst when these little nuggets are fully ripe! I found these to taste somewhat stronger than full-sized kiwis, and they were definitely sweeter for having been left on the vine to maturity. I have also ascertained that my original and purportedly self-fertile "Issai" is not producing. However, the "Anna" (female) of the pair I put in just a few years ago is producing nicely. I had hoped the male ("Clark") of that pair would also fertilize "Issai," but I see no evidence of that happening. I may simply remove the "Issai" and let the pair take over the trellises. That said, the Grand Kiwi Experiment can now be claimed as a horticultural success!

Kiwi Flowers

Day 247: I'm having trouble typing because I have all my fingers crossed that this year's Hardy Kiwi crop will be bigger than last year's. Last year was actually a record, with something like two dozen end-of-thumb sized berries when the final tally was in, and that was almost four times as many as I'd gotten the year before. I suspect that like my fig tree, once the vines start producing, they'll yield more with every passing year, although in past years, there have been other issues interfering with fruit set, such as heat waves, cold snaps and lack of pollinators. I have three vines all tangled up with each other: a self-fertile "Issai," and a pair (male and female) of another variety. Self-fertile varieties reportedly do better when they have another species to pollinate them, although they will produce a crop without a partner. I'll be happy with whatever I get, though. The berries are fuzzless and pack just as much flavour as their large cousins.

Last And Best

Day 13: I have long held with the motto, "Learn something new every day," however this particular lesson was several years in the making. Today, I discovered one last kiwi fruit hanging on the vine thanks to the fact that most of the leaves have dropped. I had found a stray berry about ten days ago, bringing my total year's harvest up to seven, but this eighth one was a bonus in many ways. First of all, it was the biggest and sweetest, but more important was learning that the fruit remains on the vine even after a light frost. Leaf-fall makes it easier to find and, as is also the case with grapes, a touch of Jack Frost's paintbrush set the sugar. I'm smarter now than I was when I went to bed last night having had a fine lesson in horticulture from the greatest teacher of all, Mother Nature.