Ta da!!! I cooked. OK... so I'm not that humble... I've got to toot my own horn a little more than that! I didn't just "cook"! I dreamed, planned, worked, toiled, sowed, watered, tended, fretted, waited, waited, waited, harvested, and THEN I cooked. Woohoo! Fresh from the garden: one tomato and a bushel (how much is a bushel, anyway?) of green beans! There's some home-grown basil in there too, but it's kinda hard to see. That's chicken, by the way, dredged in flour mixed with salt, pepper, garlic and Italian spices, then lightly pan fried in olive oil. A slice of fresh mozzarella, just-picked tomato and a sprinkle of crumbled bacon and right-from-the-deck basil, finished off the dish. I know green beans don't exactly scream to be paired with a basil and mozzarella entree, but I couldn't bear to let them go bad while we're gone for the next few days! I wanted to eat them fresh off the vine before the rabbit that I spied in my garden had a chance to tell all of his rabbit buddies. That's right: they've found my garden. Gasp!
I guess it was inevitable. I've seen them around the neighborhood and figured it was just a matter of time before they smelled the yummy goodness growing in my postage stamp of a yard. Sigh. I'm holding out hope that he was just lost and there by mistake. You see, I walked down the back steps to find him sitting in the middle of the grass. He freaked out when he saw me and ran towards the house, where he sat (under the deck) and looked slightly confused and statue-like. Then he ran closer to the house and found a gap between our house and our neighbor's yard, which he popped through. I'm optimistic that he was a first-timer judging by the way he didn't seem to know his way around.
My theory is that the water-meter guy opened the gate to check the meter, at which time Peter (Rabbit) hopped through. Then the water-meter guy, having finished his meter-reading, left our yard and closed the gate, trapping Peter inside. At that time, he froze, contemplating his next move. He failed to notice the fresh cucumbers on the vine, lush green tops of the carrots (not ready yet, I picked a couple already -looked yummy, tasted flat), thick broccoli stalks, and abundant green beans. He just sat there, trying to figure out how to get home, when I walked down the stairs and startled him.
Seriously. I think that's what happened. Nothing has been nibbled on. Nothing has been touched. Everything looks as beautiful as it did two days ago when I last checked.
So I figured I'd pick what I saw and enjoy the fruits (and veggies) of my labor while they were still there. We'll be at a wedding all day tomorrow and driving to Indiana on Sunday. I won't see my garden until Wednesday evening, at the earliest, at which time a lot of it could be gone.
Wascally wabbits! No! I'm not going to think like that! They haven't really found me yet and cute little Peter was just directionally challenged. He won't tell his friends that it's there. Will he??... :(
1 comment:
Looks yummy! I told Joe about the bushel and (having family members who grew up collecting and eating beans) he said, "A bushel? There's no way she collected a bushel!" I said, "How big's a bushel?"
Joe: 2 lbs
Dale: Well, she said a bushel. Perhaps it's a 'suburban bushel.'
And he laughed. I coined a new phrase. Perhaps it'll make it into Websters next year.
Suburban bushel: the few handfuls of beans collected from plants in suburban backyards.
I think I'll try to grow some suburban bushels next year! So remember all the things you did so when I ask you how to grow them, you can tell me!
Post a Comment