CUCURBITA THINKING

WHAT IS IT?

Try to figure this one out  before checking the end of the blog.

       As the curious garden of 2016 comes to an end, I find that the bounty of garden art is enthralling.

Take the cucumber for instance. While preparing small pickling cukes trimmed on the ends for a remaining few jars, I noticed the charming flowerlet design on the green tips. Who did that? And

why?

       Walking through the outdoor market in late summer is a delight of color and shapes, like the great variety of pumpkins at the Tomac Pumpkin Patch booth in the East Lansing, Michigan. That's Sarah waving over the menagerie of globes. The Tomac farm also has a festival October 15 called Pumpkin Chucking where the challenge has grown over the years with participants using great effort to chuck their pumpkin. Check their facebook for details.

       I learn a lot from these outdoor market excursions (what a great time to be alive). For instance cucumbers and pumpkin squashes are part of the same Cucurbita family (Cucurbita in Latin means gourd). My mind wants to throw out a stream of comments on family differences, but I'll let you do that. 

       The star form at the top of the blog is not a Cucurbita, but it does help one kind of cucurbita to become beautiful and delicious. It is a dill blossom!  Here's how it becomes an artsy object:

VOILA!

       Thank you for visiting today. If you are looking for an enjoyable read about gardens and animals and making brooms, check out our Amazon.com memoir:  A Homestead Decade, How CrunchyGranola Changed My Life  , Amazon e-book, cheap, $2.99.  Happy end of summer, Helene

Somethings Happening Here

       Major projects in our life are done and half the summer is gone, whew. I am happy to be back. One of the consequences of being diverted from home is how the garden has become. Though nothing like the old days of gardening for us, I cherish this little 3x5 plot.

       That being said, I am not the real gardener. The seeds and roots of former species dominate what is to happen here, especially when I have been unable to attend to it. The beautiful yucca have struggled with the road fill that we hesitantly call the soil. This year they flourished with bounties of the milk white blossoms glowing in the morning sun.

       The six tomato plants that I hopefully spaced among the rush of growth also struggle but are now producing sweet red globes with very tough skin. There are perennial flowers here too that I just can’t take out: golden lilies, Japanese Iris, purple bush spears, Russian heather. How dare I try to plant a vegetable among these. And there are herbs – oregano that always goes to flower, but is so beautiful in bloom, the many descendants of last year’s one volunteer dill plant, and challenged basil next to dominant mint. All of these huddle together as the magnificent assertive Morning Glories pop up all over the garden grabbing on to any stem, stick, or fence to secure it’s hold.

       This is not the garden I wanted, but I have to say that everyone out here elbowing its way to the sun, forcing every scrap of nutrient from damaged soil has certainly aroused great respect from me for the powerful drive to live.

       We have begun to frequent the outdoor markets for actual preservable produce. Fruits and vegetables parading through summer demanding action every two weeks (at their peak, they say) while the rush to gather jars and lids and freezer bags becomes a priority of our time. I love this stuff, really. And so do others that we meet at the market, like Marjorie, of Stone Cloud Gardens and the many products she prepares for us.

       Marjorie shared a concern we have that our grandchildren do not really know where or how our food becomes, that each kernel in an ear of sweet corn has the potential to grow into a plant that produces three or four more ears each. Now there’s an exponential math exercise. Go ahead count the kernels on your next sweet and buttery ear of corn. That number will be the number of potential plants if they were put in the ground and not in your mouth. And if you multiply that number by . . . well you get the idea. Someone is working hard on our behalf to enjoy these great wonders, some farmer, or some disciplined gardener refusing to wimp out to the domination of plants in an eclectic garden.

       Enjoy the wonders, my friends. And if you want to take on some fun reading this summer try my little memoir, A Homestead Decade, How CrunchyGranola Changed My Life   

Amazon e-book, cheap,$2,99.

Enjoy a Nature Adventure with A Child, You might Find A Snake

       We were exploring, the eight year old said. I did not have the best shoes for such an adventure. I tripped and grabbed at branches trying to follow him to the shore of a small pond.

       Even at eight, he showed care holding branches away from my face and pointing out long rooted vines.

       Suddenly, with a quick reach, he excitedly called snake!, as he grabbed a small string of an animal.

       The little strand of yellow and tan squirmed nervously to get out of the gentle  grip.

       The boy spoke lovingly to the snake, this boy of my life. Then face to face, snake and child, a thin red thread-like tongue sprung out of the snake's tiny mouth. The boy jumped back but retained his hold on the prize.

       I told him how good to be so kind to this little creature. He may be scared, I said, maybe we should let him go into the pond where he was headed. He agreed.

       A long look into small snake eyes, the boy spoke softly about going back. At the shore, just before release, he whispered good bye and, to my surprise, gave the snake a kiss.

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you get a chance to share glorious nature days with a child this Spring.        To all of you who have purchased an e-reader copy of A Homestead Decade, How Crunchy Granola Changed My Life from Amazon Kindle (cheap 2.99), a very special thank you!

affectionately, 
Helene

Homemade Tomato Soup with bread - Ah, Winter Lunch

Not our lunch today, but a memorable
one from Vezelay, France

It is blizzard-like outside. We have just tasted bliss in a winter lunch from our summer labors: sweet and dill pickles, fresh Italian bread into great grilled cheese sandwiches, homemade yogurt with last season's frozen blueberries, and, here it comes, Sue's fantastic winter feast - homemade tomato soup.

Oh my.

Joel sat silent during most of the lunch except for sweet moans of pleasure. Once he spoke in sympathy for our world, "Don't you wish you could feed this meal to everyone in the world?" Yes.

The pickles came from small jars. With each we remember gathering cucumbers late in the season at every farmers market we could find.
Though Joel makes great wheat bread, we did finally find the amazing Roma bakery in Lansing, Michigan and treated ourselves to rum cake and a fresh loaf of their bread for super grilled cheese sandwiches (olive oil and butter loaded with Colby and mozzarella cheese lightly dusted on each side with garlic salt before pan toasting).

The star of this meal, preserved at the peak of tomato harvesting - Tomato Soup - is the great gift in the cupboard all winter long: tomatoes cooked down with bits of vegetables - celery, carrot, onion onion, maybe a sweet pepper and a full bouquet of fresh basil. All blended, added lots of butter and seasonings, put in jars, then hot water bath in pint and quart jars. Preserving food to sustain us through blizzard days.

I'll get the true recipe for you when the season comes. If you try this fine soup, prepare to buy at least a bushel or two of tomatoes. You may be giving a lot away.

Yes, I'm back to the crunchy blog and so happy to be with you. As always thank you for stopping by and checking on me. Love, Helene