You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August 2009.

It’s storming outside, has been for a while. It’s ridiculously late and I’m almost contemplating waiting for the next feeding rather than go to bed (though not really), but what I’m really thinking about is: I wish I’d picked more of the dry beans when I was out in the garden over the weekend. I got some, but there were lots more, and I’m afraid the rain is going to spoil them the way my Hutterites were spoiled their first year. Apparently the baby fog is starting to lift a little.


Two white eggplant. One green bell pepper, three red Giant Marconi (I think) peppers. Lots of tomatoes, some deep red, some the ones that Dad didn’t pick because he thought they weren’t ripe yet: Persimmon and Tiger-Like and a black one and one with yellow shoulders  (I do have them written down, somewhere). Dried Mitla Black bean husks hiding small, svelte beans. Purple Trionfo Violetto beans, swollen with ripe seeds because I didn’t ask anyone to pick them. I’m leaving them to become seed because I have Kentucky Wonders growing elsewhere, on a later schedule. Even a neglected garden is a rainbow in August.


Meet Chloe, who will someday help me in the garden, but is currently taking nearly all my attention and energy (such as they were) away from it. She was born on July 23, 8 lb., 3. oz,. 21″ (supposedly–at her first pediatrician checkup they measured her at 19.75″). She developed some pretty severe jaundice so we spend the weekend in the NICU with her under phototherapy lights, but she’s pinker and better now, though not completely rid of it–that wouldn’t normally have happened for another few weeks anyway, so it’s not a real issue. I think I have a garden outside somewhere. My parents are in town and are picking cucumbers and squash for me, and have offered to weed if I’ll show them what plants are to be saved. I’m currently okay with letting everything run wild, or alternately harvesting what we can and destroying the rest. (Dad already dug up the garlic for me, and since we’re too occupied to make pickles we have a nice braid of it in the pantry.) Whatever. For the moment, I have an entirely different little seedling to tend.

Flowers and even fruit are only the beginning. In the seed lies the life and the future.

Marion Zimmer Bradley