We’re looking at dates now. Perhaps we leave in a month. Perhaps longer. In all the planning there is, planning which plants to try and bring, which to give away, and who, if anyone, is eager to garden-sit… is quite overwhelming.
The three blackberries will go to a friend. The potted plum to my in-laws. Perhaps they’d like the blueberries, too.
Do you think this giant chard would mind two weeks in damp newspapers if I gave it a severe haircut first?
I’m tempted to harvest tomatoes green and wrap them in paper. A book I’ve just received discusses the method as a winter storage option. Surely it’s possible for any green tomatoes you might need to pick early.
The onions started falling over, so I’m starting their curing in batches. Trying this, learning that, one group of toppled tops at a time.
And then there are the carrots to pickle and the cucumbers to… pickle. Perhaps some dry beans will dry in time.
But I believe these are the last of my seeds I’ll sow for awhile. And I’ll never eat the sweet potatoes, okra, or melon on their way. I hope the popcorn finish as we’re ready to pack them in, and that the sweet corn make a delicious farewell feast appearance.
I’ll not count the gardens I’ve started and said goodbye to. I’ll remember this one as the best yet and the breeding ground for making home-farm dreams seem achievable. And I’ll miss it dearly, idyllically, forgetting the summer’s blasting heat coming and the bare earth during planting’s “winter” in the dead of July and August.