Uneven Garden Bounty

A wintry summer in Chicago has resulted in fewer beach and pool days, evening sweaters in August, lower air conditioning bills and a sadly underwarmed garden.  The biggest loser in my tiny three-step levels and overflowing garden seems to be the teeny sad tomatoes lacking the sun-kissed flavor we usually get.  They usually thrive in the heat, changing from green to a sunburned red that is so delicious.  What a wonderful summer feeling–wandering through the overgrown vines, pulling off the still-warmed fruit, the smell lingering on my fingers long after I come indoors.

Although there are slow and steady handfuls of tomatoes ripening, usually now I am overwhelmed with bowls of tomatoes, seeking out new recipes to try, freezing soups and sauces to last throughout the long midwest winter.  The tiny grape tomatoes are sprouting by the handful, but they are not our everyday favorites.  And I have one beautiful plant that has yet to produce a fruit.  One of my best tomato plants is one that simply re-seeded from last year, growing in the wasteland, climbing up forgotten soccer nets, intertwined with cucumbers hanging over and through the vines.

A first-time cuke grower, they have been bountiful and delicious, so much more flavorful than any store-bought ones I have ever eaten.  We found many uses for them quick overwhelming amount we had,  and there are still a few pickle-sized ones on the vines.  Next year, maybe we will try a variety with fewer seeds, as these all had to be de-seeded the seeds were so large.  But, removing the skin filled the house with an amazing, clean scent of cucumbers (one of my favorites).

The lemon and original-flavored basils are bushy and full, the scent trailing behind as we carry armfuls in to use fresh, cook with, or prepare pesto to last the winter.  All the herbs are lovely: oregano, cilantro, rosemary, two kinds of parsley, dill, tarragon.  I will miss you all when the first frost arrives, except that parsley that can last until snowfall.

Green peppers have been wimpy and thin-skinned all summer.  My best success is the jalapenos.  Firm, spicy, red and green, I pull them in by the handfuls.  I’m looking for new recipes to use them–feel free to pass them along.

Ah well.  As summer winds down, we will enjoy every last item in the garden until we are forced to (sigh-oh no!)  buy pale tomatoes and waxed cucumbers from the grocery store.  And savor the last flavors of summer. C

P.S.  When the dog comes in smelling like a tomato plant at night licking her lips, exactly what is she doing with my tomato plants???

 

Sayanora Summer

While there may technically be 25 days left in summer, for millions of American families the summer is technically, officially Over.  School starts today.  For us and many of my friends, it feels like summer really ends in early August, when schedules begin again, and we start prepping for school. 

Football practice–5 days a week for 8 year olds?– cut into any evening events, soccer camp, buying school supplies (including 3 packs of baby wipes and 22 boxes of Kleenex for the teachers), haircuts, shiny new shoes, Back to School Day, dental appointments or physicals, and even buying books for myself as I begin my first college class in 20 years all cut into the languid days of summer. 

I relish our free Sundays, which don’t fill up until this weekend with soccer and football games, fall ball and tennis for other friends, knowing that they end now.  We have made a conscious effort to enjoy our free time–swimming, biking, boating, and spending with friends–knowing that the Busy days start now.  Relax, while time is again speeding up, too soon, as the glorious days of summer beckon us from outside our windows. C

 

A Garden Evolving, Part 2

Here are just a couple photos of my garden, written about yesterday.    It is truly amazing what a lot of hard work, several years, vision, cooperative weather, a bit of money to invest in new plants and  friend’s contributions can transform.

The hideous and unwelcoming Before:

And the heavenly transformation.

         

 

 

Walk without a view, Before:

And now…. C

 

A Garden Evolving, Part 1

My first summer here I spent “ungardening”; that is, removing two great garden fulls of dead trees and weeds and dying bushes and nothingness from the front of our home.  In complete disrepair, we clearly had the most uninviting yard and walkway leading to our front door.  DO NOT VISIT! it absolutely screamed.

We then went from overkill to bareness to three years later gardens full of mainly native flowers and grasses, adding every year a wonderful combination of blooms from the local nursery, cuttings from our old house now maturing, a variety of seeds and split offs from friends and neighbors.  Each magenta, orange, sunshine yellow, cardinal red, a plethora of purple, and snow white petal has a story to tell, nectar to share with a variety of bees, and welcomes the hummingbirds and toads and birds that frolic in the birdbath.

We added small vegetable beds on the side of the house, now exploding with tomatoes and herbs and jalapenos and grape vines and sunflowers stretching for the sun. My dad and I share time in the garden, my son hunting for worms as we dig, my daughters choosing the herbs and the picking the perfect bouquet.  There is always a task to be done–as the deaded vines choke out tender wild flowers and the hated Japanese beetles turn grape leaves to lace–but sometimes we simply sit on the front porch: quiet, admiring, enjoying, and planning.  The sweat we have poured into the soil rewarding us with beauty and delicious accompaniments to our meal.

Our pathway now sings WELCOME! as the flowers sway in the gentle breeze, grasses waving hello as you approach.  Just the way we want it.  C

Note: I posted garden photos the day after I wrote this, on July 31.

 

Camp Check-In

Have you ever waited at a camp check-in for overnight camp?  The nervous and the calm moms, the braggarts, the newbies, a few dads sitting in plastic chairs while the kids start clamoring and the anticipation builds until 2:00–when the kids can find out their cabins and make a mad dash to get a bunk next to their friends.

The camp is truly a wonderful place, with all the typical activities: horseback riding, canoeing, kayaking, crafts, any number of sports, singing, campfires, with the children all learning about others and themselves. Realistically, I don’t think the camp activities have changed much from a camp I attended as a young teen.

My friend Laura and I have a routine, now in our third year taking our four girls to camp in Indiana (first year for our younger set).  We leave early morning, then stop at the most fabulous German bakery a short drive from the camp for lunch.  We arrive in the staging area about 1:00, pull up our chairs and grab our books, while the girls wander about the grounds.  We talk quietly; there is not stage, but you would not know that from some of the other mothers around us.  They babble loudly, glancing to see who is looking, as they ramble about their kids’ experiences at the camp before,  how many girls they already know, blah-blah-blah.

Shortly before check-in, the staff realized they did not have enough check-in tables. They told people they would open 3 more lines, so people could move over. I was stunned to see some very uncharitable behaviour displayed at this Christian camp.  As a row or two in front of us moved over, we stood to move up to take their empty chairs.  Instead, a group of moms behind us practically pushed us out of the way to move ahead of us. I felt like I was in Filene’s Basement crush looking at wedding dresses.  How embarassing–in front of their children!

As we drove to their cabins to drop off their bags (the teen bags like kryptonite, what can they possibly have in there?) on the gravel one-way road around the cabins, people drove in every direction, clamoring to get a spot.  Once the bunks were secured, the pushy moms’ anxiety level must have decreased tenfold.  As I waited with my blinker on to turn into a parking spot, a woman cut me off to get in first!  Crazy, as there was another open spot and my girls were already situated.

I am certain that once all the families left, the kids were perfectly content to revel in being with all kids. And hopefully didn’t learn any lessons from their parents that day.  I am hopeful that once the girls complete their non-electronic two-weeks of fun with no ipod, phone, computer, TV, Wii , they will find other activites to fill their summer hours once they get home. Wishful thinking, perhaps. C

 

Sundown on the 49th Floor

 

Night arrives with a gust, as lights appear like fireflies–flickering at first, then a swarm lights up the distance. Waves undulate along the shoreline, the wind rocking both the water and the steel building I stand in.

As evening falls in the city, the crowds gather herdlike onto the sidewalks, seaching for prey and great food and better company.  Let the summer festivities begin. C