Archive for the ‘peppers’ Tag
My morning routine varies little. After my cup of coffee, I make my way down to the basement to turn off and empty the dehumidifier. As I pass the vegetable garden, I will myself to stay on the concrete path Taking a deep breath, I descend each step, repeating a silent mantra, Leave them alone, leave them alone. My will power holds up on the way down,vegetable but evaporates on the way back up.
I bend over and peek under the giant atomic monster spectacle zucchini plant in search of any new green zukes,
then do the same at its slightly smaller yellow squash cousin.
If my garden was the state fair, I’d have to rate these two a gold medal, since no sooner do I slice and grill one harvest, but find several more lining up for the next time I fire up the grill.
Next I sidle over to the eggplant where there’s no need to search. Although not as prolific as the squash varieties, it has yielded one meal and it looks like another one is not too far in the future.
And although they’ve had their problems between the groundhogs’ occasional raids and my absent-minded trampling on them, the pepper plants are giving it their all. I gently part the leaves and count the pretty white flowers and recall how crisp and crunchy the one tiny pepper I couldn’t resist picking back in July was, even though I should have left it on the plant a little longer. One is waiting for me, if I can have the patience to wait for it to get a bit bigger, or maybe a lot bigger. Oh, yes, I’d give it a bronze medal.
But now the fun ends. I know I should just turnaround and go back into the house, but that masochistic part of me propels me on to the tomatoes with whom I have a love/hate relationship. I’m in awe of how huge the the plants are. But I guess they have to be if they are to hold up all those huge beefsteak tomatoes hanging from them. Green tomatoes. After checking each one for a hint of yellow or orange, I sigh and turn my back on them.
Slacker medal for them
You see, it’s more than my disappointment. It’s my friends I worry a bout. No, not my veggie plant friends, but my real live flesh and blood friends, the ones who were so hopeful as they accepted my overflow of small plants last May, the 23 seed tray mates of the 5 runts I kept for myself. Only two have reported red tomatoes, the rest are in the same boat as I am, seeking that slight change of green to yellow green, then on to orange……and so on.
Then came tonight – since we haven’t had rain in over a week, I hauled the hose over for a soaking than the watering can I usually use to gently administer to each plant.
I wasn’t really looking at it, but there it was. Well, isn’t it always the way?!?
Have faith my friends, have faith. Your’s are on the way!
At first I thought my failure to blog regularly was because my work situation has changed. I am now writing freelance from home. While it was one thing to come home from a day on my computer at the office and write a blog, it was another thing to spend all day on my laptop up in the loft, then come down to the living room and attempt a blog post.
But that wasn’t it. I realized it was the lack of pictures. You see, normally I’d be inspired by something in the city or at the shopping center, think I must write about that, snap a photo or two, come home and write. But then, back in January…………..
……….. I lost my camera.
I searched everywhere: in every coat, under the car seat, in my gym bag, my pocketbook, in the kitchen drawer. You name it, I looked there. I was even beginning to think about getting a new phone so I’d have a camera, when……….
……………I found my camera.
The prodigal camera had returned! It was hanging out with some t-shirts in the t-shirt drawer! If I ate meat, I’d proclaim “Prepare the fatted calf ” or whatever it was that the father said when his prodigal son returned. Instead…………..
………….. I charged the camera and started snapping shots .
Ready for an update on the house of Mars?
Marble has calmed down somewhat. He’s two years old and now that it’s summer, he’s content to sit on a little blue rug I bought at the dollar store to wipe my feet on when I come in. The cast of characters changes
After breakfast… with The Brothers
Alone at last
Then there’s the garden. If you recall, I started tomatoes and cucumbers from seed. Two cuke seedlings emerged, and 23 tomatoes. Not having space for that many tomatoes, I put them up for adoption and ended up with 5 for myself. Well, 2 died, and the cukes got eaten by groundhogs. The tomatoes are doing well They are the kings of the vegetable garden……
…….Ruling over 2 eggplants. 2 squash, 4 yellow pepper plants
I tried to rise above it, but I can’t. I have to point out, that’s not my shed.
Mine is pretty
So that’s what’s going on in the House of Mars. I’m enjoying this summer so much, writing on the deck is like not working at all.
So be prepared for more blogs from The House of Mars!
Summertime and the living is easy. Fish are jumping and the cotton is high.
This song spoke to me when I was a child. It was the epitome of long lazy days made expressly for play. Summers seemed to last longer when there was nothing to do but go out and play from morning to night. When did they start to fly by in the wink of an eye? I’m on a mission this summer – to try to make this summer go as slowly as it can. I switch radio stations in the car if I hear the words Back to School. I grab the remote when I hear the word football coming from the TV. I delete e-mailed ads that mention Fall Fashions or Back to School.
Just the thought of winter sends shudders through my soul. You see, I’m chilly when the temperature dips south of 75 . I am that one person in the world who actually loves, yes loves heat and humidity. So if you ever run into me on one of my kind of days do not, I repeat do not, make the mistake of complaining about either the h or the h. If you do, you’ll hear me growl “Would you prefer the polar vortex?
So how am I making my summer last? By handing it over to my senses.
Sometimes hearing gets there first. My ears are early risers. Some mornings, I haven’t even opened my eyes when my ears are already on the job, trying to decipher the calls of the birds who compete to fill the air with their own particular calls. There are chitterers and tritterers, the chatterers, trillers and squawkers. There’s even a Yankee fan bird who calls Jeter, Jeter, Jeter.
Some days touch steps up to bat. I step outside and my skin actually sings for joy as the warmth bathes it
Sight’s been putting in duty since early spring, pointing out the first crocus brave enough to break through the frigid soil next to my front walk. Sight also distracted my driving each April morning, showing me the first leaf buds on the skeletal trees, and keeping track each morning as they unfurled and grew into fragile green miracles. Anticipating the summer to come, I’d always call out the window. “Welcome to the world, little ones.”
As for taste. Coffee never tastes as good as it does when I take that first sip of coffee out on the deck in the fresh calm of a weekend morning.
Unfortunately I have no time for coffee al fresco Monday through Friday, but thankfully I work in an office complex with lots of outdoor spots to satisfy my senses.
There’s the bench where I take a five-minute nonsmoker’s break mid-morning.
Where I walk at lunchtime
And what’s lunchtime without a place to eat lunch.
That’s my secret for slowing down summer. It’s like John Lennon said.
I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round. I just love to watch them turn.
Actually I’m just sitting here watching my tomatoes grow
And my peppers
And my cucumbers