Friday, September 23, 2011

Harvest Time

Behold the proud farmer and his ear of corn.
This corn was so rubbery, even the critters wouldn't eat it.

This is the sum total of the corn crop.
I boiled some for dinner but sadly it was inedible.

This is the total (to date) of the potato crop.
There are probably more underground. I quit looking after I found one.

While I haven't spoken this fact out loud, I'm fairly sure that the lovely corner where the garden was started is a little too shady to ever be bountiful. There are scads of green tomatoes dreaming of what they might have been and showing no signs of turning color. When picked to ripen off the vine they quickly mold and wrinkle. And so it goes.

Tomorrow the knit night crew is coming to the 'burg for an Alpaca Open House at Lippincott Alpacas. Our trip there will be preceded by a visit to Lavern's- which is the restaurant where they filmed the first episode of the West Wing- when they were stranded in a snow storm. Lavern's is best known for their apple dumplings- we are going only for dessert. I think I'll skip lunch entirely.

The final word on the video- I don't really feel like I can post it anywhere. When we were filming, I promised everyone that it would not be "youtube" material. It did what it was supposed to do for our girl. It took her out of the hospital room and back to her reality for a little while. Her mom made a special stop to see me on the way to the hospital the next day to thank me for making her daughter laugh (and cry in a good way) for the first time in a long time. She's shown it to every hospital employee that has passed through her room. It feels good. And gives me hope for the next project that I try flying into the frying pan.

1 comment:

Yarnhog said...

I have had so many garden heartbreaks that I've stopped trying. This year, the tomato plants I planted and fed and watered and babied produced not one actual tomato. And then my husband walked in from the shady, dry, neglected dog yard with a whole bowl full of cherry tomatoes--from a plant that somehow sprung up out of the gravel in a pee-stained corner, despite the complete lack of water, sunlight, or attention. That was the last straw.