Friday, July 31, 2009
A girlfriend of mine was over for lunch and I chopped her up some yellow and green peppers from the garden for her salad. She found out I didn't eat peppers. When she deduced that I had never actually tasted a pepper before (apparently the lingering contamination of what you pick off of pizza doesn't count), she made it her mission to get me to eat them, but acquiesced to allow me to drown the raw slices in ranch dressing.
I can't believe it, but I was actually afraid. It's a strange feeling to be so afraid of a food that's benign. It's not like I was going to chomp down on a hissing cockroach. This was only a pepper. A stinky, fowl smelling, down right ugly pepper, but still only a pepper. I promise you I must have looked like the boy eating new food when he scrunches his nose, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and surreptitiously bites off a smaller piece than would constitute the actual ingestion of the item.
The yellow pepper was actually good! It didn't quite make me want to sass my granny, but it was better than a sharp stick in the eye. The green pepper, however, tasted like tushy. Tushy and lighter fluid. Never again. I'd rather bury myself in sand and have a kid stand over me wiggling multiple loose teeth than get near another one of those again.
I'm proud. I ate new food that I grew in my own garden. Maybe I should add my own spot on the sidebar underneath the boy's and the girl's since they've remained pretty much stagnant in their eating patterns here recently.
The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.
Here you go sports fans. Steel yourselves, for I present you cucumber carnage with a side of beans and tomatoes. AAAAAHHHH!!!!! Oh the humanity! My eyes, my eyes!!!
I wound up just clipping off the entire trellis instead of attempting to unwind every last cucumber vine. I think the cost of new trellising would go under the "sanity expense" line in the checkbook. I've set them out in the yard to wither so it's easier to get them in a garbage bag (no compost pile here), but the rain has kept them from totally withering and now they're heavy and yucky. Hopefully it will dry out this weekend and I can bag them up then.
The lavender is a loss as well. Seems like the constant rain didn't agree with it. "Oh, look," you say, "it's in a pot. You could have just brought it inside." Could have. Didn't. Now it's dead. However, it is giving off a lovely cinnamon like scent which is nice.
Lastly, the tomatoes in pots are all done for. Every last tomato has BER and the leaves are chewed to bits. They'll be making an exit this weekend.I don't think I'll try tomatoes in pots again. The only thing that's done very well in pots has been my banana peppers. I'm most likely going to do more of these next year, but that may be the only ones I do which is a bit counterproductive because I don't even eat them. I'm most likely going to move two of the blueberry bushes to the larger containers that the tomatoes were in and I'll find something to do with the other pots.
No tears for me on this death day. We're making room for the fall crops. Woohoo!!!
The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
This is the second time I've made this, and yet again, it has turned out more as a topping rather than a sauce. I don't have a food processor or chopper or anything, so I can only get a peach as finely chopped as my dull knife will allow. Regardless of the consistency, I love it. It's sweet from the peaches and has just enough red pepper flakes to make the back end burn (no, not that back end, silly). It's so easy to prepare. I got the recipe off of Ball's Fresh Preserving site under Zesty Peach Barbecue sauce. You can find the recipe here.
I was able to use peppers and the red pepper flakes that came from our garden, so I only had to purchase the peaches, onions and garlic. I had everything else at the house. Peaches are rather cheap here at the moment, so I thought to take advantage of it. Since mine is chunkier than a sauce, I put it on top of my chicken during the last ten minutes or so of its cooking time. I really, really suggest it. You can it in a BWB, so it's amazingly simple and dresses up baked or grilled chicken without much thought.
The morning comes early. Sweet preserving dreams.
For ten months out of the year, mornings do come early at the Ribbit household. The alarm goes off at 5:00 AM, and the mad dash out of the house begins. Rarely is there time for those moments of solitude and reflection during the school year as there is over the summer, for it's still midnight dark when we leave the house. During the school year, the children's internal alarm clock runs on full tilt. Neither holidays nor weekends are sacred. 5:00 AM is morning, and morning for everyone it is. During summer vacation, however, the children are lulled into complacency and their natural sleep rhythms allow them to slowly extend their sleep, and I get my five minutes of surveying the garden-predawn bliss.
As luck would have it, just when the kids get used to the new pattern, it's time to go back to school.
Or is it?
I've been furloughed for the first two days of preplanning and then another day later in the school year. PLEASE note I'm not complaining about the pay loss. There are worse things in this world and my situation could be much more dire. We're one of two families in my neighborhood that has both spouses holding steady jobs, and the man had to let one of his employees go last Friday. Things could be much worse and that I'm not debating. So I loose three days of pay. It's not a big deal in the long run at all, but it does make me stop and think. I used to say that there were a few industries that would always be safe from the largest hits of any recession: people will always get sick, need food, and have children who need educating.
Yes, the last is a fact, but the government that relies on a lot of that tax revenue then get hit hard themselves. It's unavoidable.
Again, cut my salary if you have to. I don't teach for the pay, I teach because I have to. I'm not a whole person unless I'm in front of a classroom. You have to HAVE to do teach, or you can't and fail. The majority of us are like that. So you furloughed us for the first two days of the school year. You know we'll be bitter and fussy, but you also know we'll be there anyway because we teach, and we'll be D*&^ed if we're going to stand in front of our students on the first day not having our acts together. Those kids don't know 'recession' from a hole in the wall and they're not going to suffer because of it.
I may not have Kraft cheese on my sandwich next month (note tongue in cheek tone), but I'll be holding that Styrofoam cup of industrial strength, institutional coffee and surveying my students' progress as religiously as my garden's. I'm going to have my act together, and I will be content that first day. I will be content, and I'm not smiling until Christmas. :)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
I had a hard time finding them on-line and most of the places wanted more money than necessary for the seeds and for you to mortgage your house to afford the shipping costs which in most cases were more expensive than the seeds, themselves.
I went to a local farm supply store on a lark and sure enough, they had a four cubic foot bag just full of them. I took "a scoop" for $1.75. You can't beat that. Here's a picture of the bag minus a few hundred seeds I have already taken out.
The main bag did carry a yellow label which I wish I had gotten a better look at. I saw the words "Caution" and "Lower Than Average Germination," but for $1.75 for a scoop, I didn't think I could argue. The warning label was right. Sure enough, germination is about 20-30%. The seeds are covered in a pink coating which seems to absorb water and hold it in close to the seed, but all it seems to do is help the pea rot in the soil. I tried to uncover some of the seeds I planted a week ago and had a devil of a time finding any. The ones I did find were mostly rotted out.
I decided to try to pre sprout some of them in some paper towels. This way I'll get an accurate look at the germination rate and they'll hopefully take to the ground better once pre sprouted. Here you can see that the coating has already absorbed most of the water in the paper towel after only an hour.
The plants don't look like your average pea. Here's my Alaska peas. The tendrils are just now reaching out to grab the silly pea sticks I put out for them.
Here are two pictures of the zipper cream peas. Very different looking, aren't they; they're almost more bean looking than pea like.
Monday, July 27, 2009
I took out the four romas in the corner yard and now only have the heatwave and celebrity growing in the side yard where I found the four hornworms. Those plants are doing so much better in that location since they get full sun. I'm thinking of moving all of my tomatoes and peppers over there next year. The side yard gets double the amount of sun as both corner yards and you can certainly tell the difference in production and general health of plants. The boxes back there are only two feet wide, but if I plant tomatoes and peppers in the back row of the longest box, I can plant smaller items in front of them.
I'm also looking in to moving the trellis up one square in the corner yard's large box. This way, I can plant on both sides of the trellis and double my square feet for trellising that box. I'm a bit worried that I'll destroy the entire trellis by attempting to move it and I couldn't secure the netting to the bottom anymore, but it's worth a shot. I could always weave a bit of pipe through the bottom of the mesh to weight it down. It's a project I might just start working on tomorrow instead of waiting for spring. If I can get it done, I may get one more planting of beans in and then have the extra space for my peas as well. How fun!
The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
While we were visiting my grandmother in Laguna Woods Village in Laguna Woods, California, we passed by what at first looked like the remnants of an abandoned and overgrown storage facility. There was chicken wire covered structures, piles of debris, ladders and general insanity. I almost didn't give it a second thought until I spotted a PVC hoop house and a squash flower reaching through the main fence, hailing me as we drove past.
It was the community garden! The chicken wire served as plot dividers and trellises, the debris piles were composting and the ladders were to reach the citrus trees. It all made sense!! The man, the boy and the girl suffered through a walk through one of two community gardens the residents of the village can let. In total for the two gardening centers, there are 868 available plots, 253 fruit tree plots, and 89 shade house plots. To rent a 0-200 sqft plot, will cost you 26$ a year, up to a 400 sqft plot is $40 and a larger is $53. The residents can rent as many plots as they like although not exceeding 800 sqft. The only negative was that the centers are only open 3 days a week and only during limited hours, but they are locked to discourage vegetable theft, which is apparently rather prevalent.
We only walked through half of one of the gardens, but it was amazing. Each plot was cordoned off with chicken wire and judging by the monstrous bunnies we saw, it still wasn't enough. Here is a map of one of the garden centers. We toured the area to the left of the parking lot.
This garden boasted several awards that were attached to the chicken wire enclosure.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
I'm just askin'. Just kidding, but also just askin'. :)
We can't be in two places at once. Sometimes situations call for us to be away from our jobs or other responsibilities. This is why we have sick days, personal leave, vacation days, substitute teachers, and wonderful neighbors who water our gardens and promise to panic if they see a U-haul parked in our driveways.
You do all you can in order to be prepared to be absent for a span. Even if it's just one day, you clear off your desk, lay a writing utensil and paper pad at the ready, roll up the water hose, and store the fertilizer and gloves. So you may just happen to leave a cup of soapy water around the okra just in case a Japanese beetle roams by and decides to go for a swim. No one's begrudging you of that, but no matter your preparations to leave your garden, it still feels worse than dropping your dog off at the vet.
I'm not as gently neurotic as I was the first time I left the corner yard for the wedding in St. Louis. Then, things were new to me and I wasn't as secure in my garden. However, this time everything has fallen into place garden wise. The plan to have the high maintenance crops out of the garden by our trip has worked perfectly. The only things now producing are the tomatoes and peppers with a few melons lying around. The butternut squash and the bush beans may flower while we're gone, but everything else is in the seedling stage and those that do bloom can wait until we're home to harvest.
This trip, however, is different. We're going to California to visit my grandmother. She hasn't seen the children since the girl was three months old, and it's been-done time to go. I'm ecstatic, I'm thrilled, I'm giddy, I'm apprehensive, I'm nervous, I'm terrified.
It's a five hour plane ride. With a 5 and 2 yr old.
You can release that quick intake of breath you just took. Be grateful you're not sitting next to us.
Things will be the way they'll be. We'll get there. We'll get back. I'm not above a small shot of benadryl; I've bought suckers to stop up the mouths of the youngin's and chocolate to sooth the demeanors of our fellow passengers.
Yes, we'll get there. We've needed to get there for some time now.
See y'all in about a week. Sweet gardening dreams.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
The picture looks much nicer if you ignore my messy pantry door.
I'll probably grind these up and make some red pepper flakes.
The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
I did start to notice this week that their numbers were getting fewer and fewer until there was just one or two left. These two were the only ones left as of yesterday and you can see how they'd grown and transformed over the last three weeks.
Goodbye little friends. There's plenty of work for you out there. Hang around as long as you wish. The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I've found that the fall garden is much more difficult to plan than the spring and summer one. You have an idea of where you'd like to plant your fall crops, but they're dependent upon the summer crops finishing their production in time for them to mature before the frosts. I'm finding all of my fall planning is more fly by night and as long as I plant the shorter items in front of larger items, or at least when the smaller items have started to trellis, I'm good to go. I've drawn my grids and mapped where things will be planted. I did it pretty fast. It has me nervous.
The second set of pole beans are growing strong as well. I hope I can get them to adhere to the trellis.
This morning, as I stood on the back deck and surveyed the garden, I said out loud to myself, "Where's my cantaloupe?" My largest cantaloupe usually hung off the side of the bed; you could always distinctly see it behind the foliage, but now it was gone. When I got to the bed, I confirmed it. The cantaloupe was no longer hanging from its vine. It was on the ground. Woohoo!! I read that ideally cantaloupes fall off the vine into your hand when they're ripe. This one didn't even wait for me, however it seemed to have had a little help from a few slugs that lingered on the empty vine, but the cut end smelled divine.
Here's today's harvest. I enjoy looking back at old harvest pictures and seeing how they change with the season.
Why would there be okra in something resembling a taco bake? Why is okra in anything. There's never enough of it to do anything major at one time so it winds up making cameo appearances in everything. :)
The morning comes early. Sweet, delicious, cantaloupe gardening dreams.
***And why did the paragraphs all of a suddent start working down here? I swear it has something to do with when you upload the pictures in relation to how much you've formatted and typed already***
Monday, July 13, 2009
The next things to go, I'm afraid, are the second squash plant and cantaloupe, both of which are showing powdery mildew. I'm hopeful we can harvest the one cantaloupe before we leave town next week, but even though I'll be sad to lose those plants, again, it works well with the "have everything out of the garden before we leave" plan.
The only things out there still working hard are the tomatoes and the bell peppers. You know, we haven't gotten a colored pepper yet. They sure do take their time about it, don't they. Sweet potatoes are still looking strong; they have some holes in the leaves, but I'm not concerned. The butternut squash is also in the young stage, but looking nice and strong as well.
With everything either at the start of life or at the end, I have good news to report.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the boy has corn.
Or he will soon, hopefully. I went out there and tried to hand pollinate and shook them a bit just in case. I hear tell you need to do this every day for about 3-4 days, so we'll see how it goes. He wanted corn so ridiculously much and I'm so glad he may actually get some.
To revisit the tick issue from yesterday, this morning I asked my neighbor if he was having problems as well. He said his daughter had four on her just yesterday and the woman next to him has mentioned the tick issue as well. It's good to know that we're not the only ones, but goodness, that's a lot of ticks for the entire neighborhood to be having a problem.
We've got the bug man coming on Wednesday to take a look at things. He may not be able to do anything, but at least he's coming out. We'll just have to keep a close eye on ourselves until the situation abates.
The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
I was just going to let them sprawl all over the place, but I found these two short trellises 50% off, so I snagged them. They'll at least allow them a little height. Yes, I need to straighten up that yellow pear tomato. I'm thinking of running a line from the top of the retaining wall to hold it up.Speaking of which....This location gets really, really good sun all year, but it directly faces my neighbor's house, so I've tried to keep it tame, but I'd love to put a real trellis here for beans and peas. Questions: will beans/peas climb single lines or does it have to be mesh? Here's my thoughts. I could double up a few lengths of stringing by looping it around the top rail and securing the loose ends to the box. Now, I couldn't go straight down because that would be too close to the wall, but those boxes are only 2 ft wide. If I brought them down and secured them to the front of the box, it would give a slight slope to the line. I'm thinking individual string would be less unsightly and easily covered by the vines than full blown trellis weave.
Does it sound like it would work? Can you even envision it? If I can find a way to trellis this area simply when needed, I wouldn't have to erect an entire huge stand alone trellis for my other corner yard box.
While you're mulling that over, look back to the picture and then to the tomato bushes on the right. Do you see him?
Yup! There he is. Much happier, tucked away in his safe home. We're about to have our first thunderstorm since he came here. I know it's silly, but I want to go and bring him inside.
The morning comes early. Dream about that trellis idea for me, okay?
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Again, since we knew nothing about it, we decided to look it up. It's pretty isn't it?
It's going to die now.
Apparently you should do everything you can to keep it from flowering and at the first sight of a flower stalk, you need to cut it off immediately and the plant may recover. Now that it's extended this energy to flower, and they're apparently pretty fragile plants, he's not going to make it much longer.
I'm having that "parent" moment when you feel like you need to run to the store for a replacement goldfish. It's silly, but he's really attached to that plant. He talks to it and tries to catch ants and flies to feed it. Maybe we can convince him it's a seasonal thing, but with his recent fascination and fear of death and dying, I'm not looking forward to it.
In the garden world:
The eggplant did not like the heat of June one bit and died back. They were in larger pots than the blueberry bushes were, so I transplanted two blueberry bushes to those large pots and then a third into a pot they vacated because it was larger than the pot the third one was in. Hopefully if I baby them during the next few days, they'll do well in their new homes.
I went ahead and planted some zipper peas where some of the zucchini was. I think I have until Aug 30 to plant peas and these are supposed to be rather tolerant of heat, so I think the rest of July and early Aug should be fine for them.
On a lark, I put some more beans in the side bed where the bush cucumbers and purple beans were. They're pole beans, so we'll have to rig something up for them directly, but I think they'll do fine.
The sweet potato vine is sprinting to fill the space the zucchini vacated. I'm finding differing bits of advice as to whether you should cut the runners of the sweet potato vine to make larger tubers under the main plant or let them grow and have many smaller tubers. I'm letting them run for now, but maybe I'll snip them closer to harvest time? Goodness, when IS harvest time for them?
I'm thinking the cucumbers are going to come out sooner rather than later. They aren't flowering anymore and the last 6-7 I've pulled off are bitter as the day is long. That's not good for the bread and butter pickles I made last night. I thought I smelled a bitter one, but dumped it in the bowl with the rest. Then the whiff hit me. I dug out as many as I could find, but someone ins going to have a few bitter bites. I don't think even pickling will save them.
I did, however, find peaches for next to nothing and canned some spicy peach barbecue sauce. I can't wait to try it.
Garden pictures coming tomorrow!
The end :)
The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Our last stop of the morning was to run into the Wal-Mart to get some coffee and bleach, not to be consumed together, of course. While I was there, I picked up two 40lb bags of compost to scratch into the dirt where the bush beans were so I could plant some rutabaga. Usually when picking up soil bags, I like to balance the bag across the shopping cart like I do dog food in order to make it easier to get my arms around it to transfer to the car. No such luck here. The cart was far too wide and the bags too short to drape across. I knew when the bag hit the bottom of the cart that this was going to be trouble, and toyed with the idea of asking the register lady to call some help, but decided to hoss it out, myself.
Not the best decision of my life.
I got the first bag out and in the car just fine, however, my grip slipped on the second bag, so I balanced it on the side railing of the cart to adjust my hold. It's amazing the things your mind can process in an instant. The cart began to tip towards me and I knew instantaneously I was going to fall backwards. I judged my position, knew I was neither going to hit the cart return to my right or my rear view mirror on the left and was pretty sure I'd miss the curb behind me. Not fully trusting the calculation between my head and the curb, I made the distinct decision to let go of the bag and thrust my elbows behind me just in case the curb was closer to my head than I thought.
I fell completely backwards. Letting go of the bag, the only thing that kept me weighted forwards, resulted in propelling me backwards like a slingshot, but I judged correctly and got my elbows beneath me just enough to only tap my head on the asphalt.
I swear. You can't make this stuff up.I lay there for just a second, trying to work out what happened, then I heard the boy in the car wailing that his mommy was dead. The shopping cart was on its side; the compost was now flat on the ground and I knew there was no getting it up with my Bert-and-Ernie arms. To make matters worse, the man who witnessed the entire show and who was parked just on the other side of the cart corral, snickered and pulled out of his parking space without a hi-de-do.
A few seconds later, someone did come by and say he didn't see it, but his daughter yelled straight in his year as she watched me fall, so he came to help. I choked down my pride, decided to be a girl, and let the man pick up the cart and cow excrement. I thanked him for helping and told the little girl she had a gentleman for a daddy, something every girl should wish for.
By the by, the boy was still sobbing throughout this because Mommy's elbows were bleeding and he was convinced I had broken a bone and his mommy was dying and wouldn't be his mommy anymore and the police were going to come get him, but he didn't want a new mommy and what would happen to his sister, but I wasn't really going to get in the car with those bloody elbows, was I? Because that would make a mess.
The girl, who henceforth had remained silent on the issue says, "Mommy, you fall. You silly goose, Mom. Mommy, whydju do that? "
I don't know why, but I do know I'm incredibly grateful I moved both kids to the car before I started unloading the cart. It's something I always do without thinking, but now I know it's for good reason.
So now I'm sitting here, several hours later, the impact still lingering in my elbows, waiting for the feeling to return in my little fingers and nursing my bruised ego with peach cobbler.
Those rutabaga had better be worth it. :)
The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Rather, this, of course, is what he would have been thinking had a 2 yr. old not intervened. I had my back to the counter while digging the refrigerator for dinner. The girl declared it was Santa Claus sitting there on the counter. I agreed, and humored her, for yes, in spite of its yellow coat, pointy hat, greenish pants, and watering bucket, it did have a beard and all things with beards are Santa Claus. My foray though the refrigerator must have masked the sound of a chair being lugged across the floor, for the next thing I knew, the girl snatched the gnome and tore off through the house kissing and super speed rocking it. I just knew she was going to break it.
To ensure the gnome's inevitable fate, I dropped the bucket of beans and took off after her. The dog caught wind of the action and chased me chasing the girl super speed rocking and kissing a brand new, breakable, gift gnome that I was going to be dam*&$ if it were to break before I got it in the garden to get the chance to decapitate it myself with the sprawling water hose. It didn't help the commotion that the boy jumped on the ottoman and broadcasted a play by play of the dog chasing me chasing the girl super speed....well, you get the picture.
When it was all over, I do believe the lovely gnome rolled his eyes and pleaded to go home to Kate and Crew.
Here he is, after much initial excitement, all in one piece, and in the side yard guarding the tomato bushes with all his might. He was moved in between the two tomato plants after his photo shoot where he'll be more protected from the hose, 2 yr old rascalls and able to survey and maintain the side yard to perfection. He's an absolute dear and I love him already. He, on the other hand, is kindly reserving judgement on us.
Thank you, Kate!
The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.... Gnome, get to work.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
I took the hint and pulled 7 ripe Romas off and handed them to him across the fence. He was just as thrilled to have them as I was to give them....at first. Then, I remembered. He used the word 'salad'...in the summer time.
A few months ago, I posted about the distinct possibility of there being a conspiracy within the vegetable world whereas when you have all of your lettuce, radishes, and peas for your salads, your tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers are yet but well protected seedlings and have yet to see the light of day. (You can click to go to the original post. I'll wait...OK, ready?)
His comment about a summer salad (this would be one with lettuce and not pasta as the vegetable gods would have us believe) brought everything back to memory. The powers that be in the vegetable world have got us hoodwinked. They try to bamboozle us in the summer by inundating our gardens with beans, squash, peppers, tomatoes, okra, melons, and zucchinis enough to feed a small country in the hopes that it will escape our notice that we are without the main component in a basic salad, and that's 'salad' as in the real thing, baby, with lettuce, peas, carrots, red cabbage, radishes and more. The same holds true in the fall and winter, for then we're occupied with Cabbage Lopers, ravenous squirrels, rogue ravens, and frost and freeze warnings which hold our attention just long enough for us to not long for those plump, shiny, red orbs.
I call shenanigans. You may have won this round, but the gardener will prevail. For we can make salsa with those tomatoes and peppers, and fresh fall or spring lettuce goes awfully nicely on a taco salad.
The morning comes early. Sweet veggie mingling dreams.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Note to self...your hands may have stopped burning quite some time ago from the capsicum in the peppers you cut for the salsa, but that means nothing to your eyeballs when you go to take out your contacts or even put them in the next morning. And yes, the hottest pepper I cut was a little jalapeno. Yes, I'm a wuss; yes, I've been told it before. I still say peppers smell badly, but I've got respect for them now.
Today, I just HAD to find something to do with that gargantuan zucchini. We've got tons sliced and shredded in the freezer, we're not relish eaters, and I know that it's not safe to can zucchini without a pressure canner, which I'm not interested in. But, what I could do is make some zucchini salsa and freeze it! Yay, more salsa!!
You'd think I'd remember to wear gloves, this being less than 5 hours removed from the morning contact experience.
Yeah, me too. But anyway, I made the salsa, got rid of the Goliath zucchini and two of his friends, but the recipe called for nutmeg. I'm not a big nutmeg fan, but I put a bit in. It's not as good as the one I made last night, but it's something new, the zucchini is used, and it's in the freezer.
Harvests are getting smaller. Here's today's. The bush cucumbers over in the large bed are going to get pulled out tomorrow. They've produced one cucumber to the same seeds in the side bed's 20 lbs. They're dying back, have no new blooms and just not worth the water. I still have a few on the vining cucumbers to last the month.
I put the tomatoes on the counter to use for tomorrow's picnic, but I took the red chilies and strung them together to dry.
I hung them in my cabinet in the dark to try to maintain their color, but I've got no idea what to do with them. Seriously, I'll never use them in anything and my new found respect for a measly jalapeno is not helping me look at these things favorably.
But on from the pain to the wonder....
There's just something cute about a baby cantaloupe. There's not much more in the garden which could possibly be cuter.