The Awkward Gardener

Well, it’s been another long while since I’ve written, but fear not loyal readers, all three of you, I’ve not been neglectful. I’ve been BUSY. Like insanely busy. I’ve finally decided that the U.S. Census can march on without my help. I’ve hung up my badge and am determined to recover what is left of my sanity. There wasn’t much to begin with, so it should be an afternoon project at most.

Anyhoo, my garden has also marched on without me. Other than some watering, and a little weeding on my way to and from the car, most of it has been thriving quite well. I finally have some green peppers, which took quite a while to start producing. There are tons of jalapeños and banana peppers, neither of which I’m fond of, but jalapenos are useful for some homemade salsa. I’ve never been sure what banana peppers are useful for other than filling up lonely corners of pizza boxes.

F.L. improvised a trellis of sorts out of wire for his cucumber vine, which worked surprisingly well. I had no idea how cucumbers actually grew, so I left that project up to him. We’ve had a few tasty cucumbers so far, with a few more still budding on the vine.

Now, the tomatoes are by the far the stars of this little experiment. I have both cherry and regular ol' salad tomatoes (I don't remember what variety they were, imagine that). They have gone crazy. It's like a tomato-palooza around here. I can't keep up with them, and since there is only so many salads a person can eat in a day, I've had to be creative in coming up with uses for them. The next obvious use is salsa, which we have made tons of. (I've a few recipes I've tried and adapted that I will share in another blog.) The sit on my counters, taunting me. The ones still on the vine are even worse. One minute they are still small and green, duping me into believing I still have time before I need to pick them. I turn around to do something for a second, then turn back to find them plump and glowing red. It's kinda freaky. As my sanity is already in question, I don't find it amusing to have mischievous vegetables playing tricks on me.

Some of our plants haven’t fared so well, however. My attempt at onions was an epic fail. I had a lot of cilantro in the beginning, but wasn’t aware that I needed to cut them back to keep them from flowering. The seeds of the cilantro plant is actually coriander, another fact I was unaware of. I tried replanting some more, but it hasn’t done so well, so I will chalk that up to a lesson learned for next year. There are some things I have planted that have done well, but I’ve no idea what I really need them for, such as basil and lavender. So another lesson learned: only plant things I plan on using, or plan on learning to use. I probably needed to dry the basil and the lavender, and I’m sure there was something I needed to do with the coriander. Sadly, being gone so much, I left them to their own devices, like little green latch-key children, only with less junk food and video games. The results were only slightly less heartbreaking.

Then there are the mystery plants. These are plants that I have no clue what they are. And they are flourishing, blithely unaware of my cluelessness. I have one plant that has sprouted out of a coffee container that is almost as tall as me. It reaches proudly for the sky, right by the front steps. I try to avoid eye contact, as I’m afraid it will speak to me, and I won’t know what to call it. I honestly couldn’t begin to guess what it is, but it has miraculously survived my ignorance and indifference. There are many other such plants, maybe not as impressive, and not one looking vaguely edible. I refuse to get rid of them, as they fill out the porch nicely, giving the impression I know what I’m doing. I had started out with a list of what was planted where, but the garden got away from me, and I lost track. A month or so ago, we took down one of our mini blinds that had Ozzy had ripped up in his attempt to keep guard against the outside world. Instead of throwing it out, I stuck it in the closet. Next year I will cut up the slats and use them as labels for my plants, kind of a garden version of those “Hi, My Name Is _______________” name tags people wear at tedious work seminars.

So, I will say my first attempt at a vegetable garden is a success, in that I have grown a vegetable or two. I also see a lot of things I need to change or learn for next year. Meanwhile, I think I am going to search for some more tomato-based recipes, before they march right over the whole kitchen.


Until next time,


The Awkward Gardener