Welcome to the Jungle
We put in some time in the garden this weekend, and I think I finally understand those people who think slapping bugs and pulling weeds is relaxing. It was delightful. I sat myself down in the wet dirt and wrestled with the overgrown jungle in our backyard. There was no traffic concerning me. I didn’t have to worry about finding a smoke-free room with two beds somewhere on the safe side of some random town. After weeks out on the open road it was terrific to be hemmed in by strawberries plants in the midst of staging a coup to overtake the yard and towering 6 foot high raspberry bushes.
Also standing strong was the rhubarb. Back in June, as we were getting ready to leave town, I judged it done and planted squash right on top. But clearly I was premature in writing off the rhubarb–
Before I get all puffed up about the glorious successes in our garden, I admit one major disappointment. Though the vines of the pumpkin, the squash and the cucumbers are gorgeous thick twists heavy with flowers, I worry that when push comes to grow, they will not produce. NO FEMALE FLOWERS. AGAIN. Now, I like hanging with guys as much as the next sorority girl, but I’m begging for a nice nerdy science guy out there somewhere willing to explain why inside the house I make all girls, but outside the house it’s one bachelor party after another. Please?
At least I have some producers to appease me while I ponder the infinite questions of vegetable sex. Our tomatoes did just fine without us.
Even the rainbow chard that I thought would never show poked it’s head up. In our absence the bugs had a feast, but at least I can feel good knowing that the little critters received a healthy dose of vitamin-rich antioxidants.
We got potatoes! These truly were the easiest things to grow. I stuck one rotten looking spud in the ground, cruised around the nation for a couple of months, and Wham! Bam! French Fries Ma’am!
And finally, after 7 weeks of gifting our CSA share to the happy, healthy Redfern family, we finally got our hands on some local, farm-fresh veggies
We started with the eggplant. According to Dave, a self-acclaimed afficienado, the eggplant parmesan I made that night was the best he’s ever eaten. I take full credit, gracefully. Though real credit is probably due to the fact that the eggplant was the freshest we’ve ever had. Freshly-picked eggplant–ours was picked 24 hours beforehand–is much sweeter and holds far less water. The less water in the eggplant, the less of a bitter aftertaste.)