I quit

Things are heating up, ironically, since it's raining and cold again. The tomatoes, however, are outside getting wet and blown about. I'm transplanting this weekend unless we experience apocalyptic floods or earthquakes or insistent Frisbee or something. It's time.

And things in the basement are doing well. In the absence of the large, hairy tomatoes (I imagine them seeming like older brothers to the rest), there are more timid, more heat-loving plants:

The older peppers. Planted maybe in February? They're bedeviled by some pesky reddish aphids which seem to reproduce exponentially every 12 hours. If I could find the Ur-Mother, I might be able to be rid of them. Daily squishing, twice daily ideally, seems to help. I may make some insecticidal soap stuff and spray it. If I could only find a whole sprayer. How many spray bottles have romped through this house? Sigh.

Younger peppers, more varieties. I had concentrated on Padrons, having tunnel-vision. Then I remembered how much I loved having ripe bell peppers in the garden, and how much I loved pulling out frozen pepper strips for recipes. And Eric, in one of those, "Hey, let's keep this marriage fresh" moments, let slip that he really liked pickled hot peppers. Color me surprised! I did not know this. Now I am determined to procure, grow, and preserve some hot peppers. Whee!!

Speaking of preserving, there are about five or six varieties of cucumbers also coming along. Three or four pickling varieties, mostly cornichons, for the oldest child. (Who will no doubt again tell me that I misheard and she doesn't like them, but was only going through a stage.) A couple slicers, only one Lemon -- I can, apparently, learn.

And outside, well, outside some things are done with their run.

This is the last of the purple cauliflower, from a commercially raised transplant, and a variety of lettuce leaves nipped off of the outside of the spectacularly happy lettuce out there. Cool, rainy, no slugs, check! I'm already thinking of what kind of salad this will make.

But what I'm NOT thinking about is weighing, writing down, or recording this harvest in any way. I still remain in awe of the bloggers/gardeners who do, and I think it's probably a good idea, but I haven't been able to do it in any useful way. Maybe some day my head will be screwed on in that direction, and I'll probably say happy things like, "I canned 48 bazillion quarts of tomatoes!" if that happens, but until then, I think I better concentrate on a) growing the food and b) eating the food while c) making certain there is more food ready to be planted.


So consider this my notice, I guess. I quit. 


Sort of.