My tomatoes got a late start this year while I was debating about whether to plant any at all. It is always a fierce competition between me and the deer to see who can get to snack on ‘em first. My green thumb kept poking me and so I succombed as I usually do and decided on only 3 plants. “Early Girl”, “Better Boy” and a cherry tomato container plant. I think "Better Boy" turned out to be the best producer. And then I was surprisingly gifted with 3 more plants that were left on my front steps by a surreptitious visitor. I promptly found a home for them as well amidst all the chaos that I call a garden.
Up until the frost I was able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. They are still green and not so much ripening anymore, so I picked them. Remember the Kathy Bates movie…I decide to give it a whirl. Not much liking fried green tomatoes. Later on I am convinced by a friend to try pickling them. Huh? Nope. I try but
still not liking ‘em this way either.
Gram always said to wrap them in newspaper and put them in a box in a cool dark place to ripen. Old Country wisdom comes through again. You have to check them periodically because they don’t all come through with flying colors but darn it does work.
My pie pumpkins were also quite prolific this year. They are perfectly shaped, cute, little, and really sweet. I made pumpkin oatmeal raison cookies. Several times. Yum. Sounds healthy, right? Except for the 2 cups of sugar. I also recently learned that you are not supposed to eat those Jack-o-Lantern pumpkins. Nothing will happen to you. Just not too tasty.
The only thing that didn’t work out well this growing season was my cantaloupes. Oh, they grew alright. I watered, coddled, fed them, and endured the embarrassment, strange looks, and inquiries from my neighbors while they wound around my lamp post until harvest time. They had the strangest taste. I think they tasted like their neighboring cannas. Not that I really know what cannas taste like, mind you. They were promptly returned to the compost pile and I am already musing about next year’s crops.
These pics are the front and back of my most recent canvas hand bag that I painted. Designed by me and done in acrylics. I am hoping to find it a good home. It’s listed on E-bay. My seller name there is QuirkyArtiste. Tee Hee.
“A Primitive (Artist) is an amateur whose work sells.” – Grandma Moses
Up until the frost I was able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. They are still green and not so much ripening anymore, so I picked them. Remember the Kathy Bates movie…I decide to give it a whirl. Not much liking fried green tomatoes. Later on I am convinced by a friend to try pickling them. Huh? Nope. I try but
still not liking ‘em this way either.Gram always said to wrap them in newspaper and put them in a box in a cool dark place to ripen. Old Country wisdom comes through again. You have to check them periodically because they don’t all come through with flying colors but darn it does work.
My pie pumpkins were also quite prolific this year. They are perfectly shaped, cute, little, and really sweet. I made pumpkin oatmeal raison cookies. Several times. Yum. Sounds healthy, right? Except for the 2 cups of sugar. I also recently learned that you are not supposed to eat those Jack-o-Lantern pumpkins. Nothing will happen to you. Just not too tasty.
The only thing that didn’t work out well this growing season was my cantaloupes. Oh, they grew alright. I watered, coddled, fed them, and endured the embarrassment, strange looks, and inquiries from my neighbors while they wound around my lamp post until harvest time. They had the strangest taste. I think they tasted like their neighboring cannas. Not that I really know what cannas taste like, mind you. They were promptly returned to the compost pile and I am already musing about next year’s crops.
These pics are the front and back of my most recent canvas hand bag that I painted. Designed by me and done in acrylics. I am hoping to find it a good home. It’s listed on E-bay. My seller name there is QuirkyArtiste. Tee Hee.
“A Primitive (Artist) is an amateur whose work sells.” – Grandma Moses
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