Gardens are funny in the way that on one day they are potential things, they are spaces about to produce food.
The next day, they are abundant and overflowing and it becomes almost impossible to keep up with their bounty.
We’re at the “next day” phase.
In the last week I’ve eaten more snap peas than I usually do in a whole year. Yet I sit here on the deck and I can see enough still hanging on the pea vines that it seems like I hardly made a dent.
I filled a bowl with fresh raspberries and we had to freeze most of them to keep them from spoiling. There are another round or two ready to be picked in the coming days.
I’ve only been snacking on the carrots, but what I thought was a sparse crop is looking to be overflowing even now.
The cucumbers are covered in little proto-cumcumbers just starting to grow, and in a week or two we are going to need to start eating a helluvalot of more cucumbers … or open a pickle factory.
It’s obvious that one of the rare benefits of this pandemic has been the opportunity to spend so much time an attention in our own yard this summer that growing a garden has paid — is right now paying — dividends on that investment.
I haven’t even checked the potatoes, but I’m considering buying a fryer because I don’t think I can make the switch from rice to an all potato diet without incorporating some variety.
Look at me, complaining about bounty of food. How privledged.
Actually, it is highlighting the urgent need to consider how I might preserve some of it. In the past five or so years, our busy lifestyle has meant that despite planting the garden in the spring, the daily diligence of weeding, pruning, and minding the patch has just not been there. It’s helped that this has been a summer leaning far to the wet side of the preciptation scale and I’ve only needed to water a few times, but in drier years finding that ten minutes in the day to pull out the hose and throw some water down was just not a priority. The short version of that tale of laziness is that we’ve never really faced this abundance, at least not for the better part of a decade. There was always just enough to eat, graze, add to a meal here and there.
Now I have abundance.
It’s awesome — and daunting because the clock is ticking on what to do with it, and not squander it all.
(For example, sitting here writing and NOT picking out some plenty for a salad for dinner tonight!)
The weeds are generally under control.
The pests seem to be held at bay.
As mentioned, the rains have been keeping everything lush and wet and green.
It would suck if I was the excuse this year. So if you’ll excuse an abrupt ending to this update, I’m going to go pick some veggies…