Sometimes I get a little high on myself. I think "hey, I can garden and can and cook and do it all pretty well". And then my homemade pectin isn't pectin-y. And my homemade pickles match the textbook description of spoiled pickles that should not be eaten. And it freezes the night that I don't cover my tomatoes. And the only butternut squash that has survived the great squash bug infestation of 2010 (which I fully intended to harvest but my hands were full so I decided it could use a few more days on the vine) also freezes and is then discovered by the ever-expanding squash bug colony.
But I'm good with it. I'm learning things. Every flubbed attempt builds a little more character and expertise (as in What Not To DO expertise, which is really quite valuable). And guess what? My relish is SCRUMPTIOUS, my hubby and kid have downed gallons of homemade-pure-and-unsweetened grape juice within the last week, and there are plenty of edible things hanging out in the pantry and freezer waiting to grace our table this winter.
I'm sure the magpies will be ever so thankful for the spoiled pickles.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Jungle
Every year I tell myself I will do better about this, and every year I forget. Staking/caging tomatoes is a trial for me! I know it's not that hard, but (like cleaning toilets) I dread it so much that I make it out to be a huge task and then I just avoid it!
Alas, this means that picking tomatoes requires hacking through a jungle. Do you know how frustrating it is to see a glimpse of ripe tomato goodnees peeking through the underbrush, yet not be able to get to it without a machete!? Some of my tomato plants have decided that standing up just isn't worth the battle and have decided to lay down on the job, meaning that my lovely ripe tomatoes are often wallowing in the dirt. Since they were all planted in 4-foot square raised beds, the chaos is at least manageable, but it is messy! And somewhere, hiding under all that, are a few straggling basil plants and at least one pepper plant. I know they're in there--I can smell 'em.
I'm pretty sure the mayhem, combined with my inattentiveness to the blossom end-rot problem, will adversely affect production, but I swear that I will do better next year! Meanwhile, does anyone have any ideas for a delicious way to put up eggplant? And let me mention in advance that pickled eggplant just does not sound yummy to me.
Alas, this means that picking tomatoes requires hacking through a jungle. Do you know how frustrating it is to see a glimpse of ripe tomato goodnees peeking through the underbrush, yet not be able to get to it without a machete!? Some of my tomato plants have decided that standing up just isn't worth the battle and have decided to lay down on the job, meaning that my lovely ripe tomatoes are often wallowing in the dirt. Since they were all planted in 4-foot square raised beds, the chaos is at least manageable, but it is messy! And somewhere, hiding under all that, are a few straggling basil plants and at least one pepper plant. I know they're in there--I can smell 'em.
I'm pretty sure the mayhem, combined with my inattentiveness to the blossom end-rot problem, will adversely affect production, but I swear that I will do better next year! Meanwhile, does anyone have any ideas for a delicious way to put up eggplant? And let me mention in advance that pickled eggplant just does not sound yummy to me.
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