Tis the season…
We’ve long since lost track of the harvest. Pounds and pounds every few days. To snack, in curries, in tacos, to family, cabreses, to work, to friends, to the birds. Still they march on, and no one complains.
Guatemalan blue banana squash is new for me this year. It’s getting cozy with the volunteer sunflowers.
As one of the varieties of cow peas (with orange blossoms!) gets cozy with the volunteer amaranth.
Last week, this bean was cozy with the hose. After a week away on vacay, I’d say they’re more than cozy.
Tomorrow, I hope for uninterrupted TV time – a rarity in my home. (Go USA!) But I have plans for the long commercial break at half time…
We missed our turn here…
A friend is going to try to roast and grind the seeds to make a tastes-like-coffee drink (with no caffeine.) Perhaps overgrown okra will have a delicious purpose after all.
I struggle to get over there like I mean to.
But I have to change my shoes… and remember what to bring… and convince myself to put on “somscream.”
Then a trip across the state (don’t laugh, it’s a big state) and it’s been ages.
The squash didn’t mind.
I keep telling myself to refresh my tomato pruning knowledge and actually prune them this year. (I likely won’t.)
Just like I ignored the row spacing
instructions suggestions for the cowpeas.
Again, the weeds grew just as, if not more voraciously. I am not accustomed to this. It makes me miss my carefully-crafted, cautiously-curated, mostly weed-free gardens of yore.
Yet I remind myself to be grateful for the bountiful fruitful glorious loam that is this soil. The decades of organic gardening, tending, and watering – even if the Bermuda and torpedo and other such abhorrent invaders have yet to be kept at bay.
Anyone know the name of this invader?
Apparently I can choose when to pick these? Apparently, it’s up to me.
The green are a little under for my picking tastes. Too much webbing. Too little food for the effort lacking strings.
The tinged are trying. Almost there. String but not strongly so.
The robust red. The insistent burgundy. The no-confusing-you. Those are the ones, I think. Those are the beauts.
At least, until we cook them and study once more.