1:55 PM on Wednesday, September 16. 2009
The Fall of Summer
I have a very healthy crop of green tomatoes this year. We're probably going to be eating green fried tomatoes until the first frost. It's just a shame that I don't like them.
But I can't complain, really. No one had a very good crop this year, except for the neighbor across the street with a dozen tomato plants hanging with red ripe tomatoes. I don't know how he does it!! He must be hiding huge plant lights behind his bushes. Or maybe he's got mirrors and magnifying glasses on his roof.
Even the local Amish are complaining about the very bad growing season this year. And when they complain, you'd better listen. It makes me wonder if we've got a hard, nasty winter headed our way, or if the price of certain foods will go up. I don't think everyone had such a crappy summer, though, so it's probably just local food that suffered.
I'm not too disappointed, though. Even though I only got one squash, one cucumber (so far), two tomatoes, and a couple of small peppers still ripening, I gained a ton of experience. Next year, my garden's really going to flourish because I already know what I need to do and when. Like next year, I won't get antsy and plant my seeds inside in FEBRUARY. I think I'll wait until, say, April or May, when I was supposed to. Goodness. That means I've been watching over those plants for almost nine months. No wonder I feel so close to them. They're like my children!
In a way, actually, I'm glad that fall is here. It means that I can stop hovering over the plants and let them go back to the earth. Give the poor things a rest.
Oh yeah, and yesterday was my birthday. Happy birthday to me! I turned 25, and it struck me how old I suddenly feel. 25 was always the mark in my mind, kind of the dividing line between Young and No Longer Young (which is different from Old). I still feel like me, but something tells me that I shouldn't feel like a kid anymore. I'm friggin' 25! Sigh. Time flies when you're not trying to enjoy every minute.
But I can't complain, really. No one had a very good crop this year, except for the neighbor across the street with a dozen tomato plants hanging with red ripe tomatoes. I don't know how he does it!! He must be hiding huge plant lights behind his bushes. Or maybe he's got mirrors and magnifying glasses on his roof.
Even the local Amish are complaining about the very bad growing season this year. And when they complain, you'd better listen. It makes me wonder if we've got a hard, nasty winter headed our way, or if the price of certain foods will go up. I don't think everyone had such a crappy summer, though, so it's probably just local food that suffered.
I'm not too disappointed, though. Even though I only got one squash, one cucumber (so far), two tomatoes, and a couple of small peppers still ripening, I gained a ton of experience. Next year, my garden's really going to flourish because I already know what I need to do and when. Like next year, I won't get antsy and plant my seeds inside in FEBRUARY. I think I'll wait until, say, April or May, when I was supposed to. Goodness. That means I've been watching over those plants for almost nine months. No wonder I feel so close to them. They're like my children!
In a way, actually, I'm glad that fall is here. It means that I can stop hovering over the plants and let them go back to the earth. Give the poor things a rest.
Oh yeah, and yesterday was my birthday. Happy birthday to me! I turned 25, and it struck me how old I suddenly feel. 25 was always the mark in my mind, kind of the dividing line between Young and No Longer Young (which is different from Old). I still feel like me, but something tells me that I shouldn't feel like a kid anymore. I'm friggin' 25! Sigh. Time flies when you're not trying to enjoy every minute.
My life is art. When I dream, my imagination flies, and when I wake, it tells its story on paper with pen. And when I look out a window, I see endless possibilities. But I have a long way to go still on my journey through the clouds of art and imagination. Won't you join me?
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