There’s a fiend in my house. No matter the hour, the meal, or the availability – she wants them.
And sow I put in twenty of them. And while this will not suffice to her appetites, it may help with a budding understanding of seasons, consumption, and responsibility.
Until then, and after, the clamshells that transport her fix will be cherished as squirrel and bird deterrents to her papa’s fix, potted up one final time before the giant leap for garden kind.
Because this isn’t going to last long enough to make it on a plate…
The kids won’t know what they missed when they get their “dang quesadillas.”
They used to be saved Sonic cups. Then we stopped going to Sonic.
They used to not pot up larger than my hoard of 4″ pots. Then we didn’t harvest much.
Last year, I ventured into the nearby 7-11 to buy 24 Big Gulp cups. $2/sleeve and I was set. Then my one baby wrecking crew prevented saving them to this year.
Today:
“Hi, I’d like to buy a sleeve of big gulp cups, please.
– Um. Let me get the woman who can help you…
(It’s the same woman!)
“Oh, hi! We did this last spring, too. I’d like to buy a sleeve of big gulp cups, please. Actually… two sleeves this year.”
First Woman – Can I ask what you do with these?
” I pot up my tomatoes.”
Second Woman – They’re on the house this year. Be sure you bring any extra tomatoes this way. There’s a donation jar for the food bank down the counter if you’re so inclined.
“Will do!”
They were overdue and hungry, hence the yellow here and there. Maybe ten more days, maybe three weeks. Then they’ll be potted up to their necks for the third and final time, getting their roots a good 12-18″ deep to weather our hot, dry summers for a second harvest come fall.
I don’t blame you, little blossom. I get that you’re down. I’m down. A lot of us are down.
How do we stand tall? When the drops are beating down on your head, the sorrow and worry on mine, the horrors of the world on so many.
But stand tall we must. Stand up, speak out, and make change. Inertia is strong, but we are stronger. The power in place is tall, but we can lift one another up taller yet.
Rise with me, little blossom. Do not bow too long.
The cauliflower started to rot, so most are harvested smaller. The carrots are still being thinned, so we’ll have bigger ones soon.
More peas are up and new carrots as well. It’s going between freezing and 80 day to day. A bit of a challenge for the brassicae but awakening the perennials nicely.
Everywhere you go…
There’s a broccoli in a leafy “tree”…
Kids in the dirt, you see…
and limes that fell because they mind the “snow”…
Inside is a face covered in crayon. A mug of coffee half gone. A breakfast grandly attempted which achieved a modicum of success. Two very special notes: the names she first gave us written on notes in her own hand.
Outside, the fog is burning off in the sun’s beams of day awakening.
It is time for shoes until the ground wand and the day swings full.
plumdirt 