“There is such a stilted
turned up nose pattern going on around me as far as gardening is
concerned. This has made it a monumental undertaking for something that
should not be that big of a deal. First off buying the land on a hill
because it was what we could find and what we could afford was probably
the most stupid thing I have ever done. Oh well, after building a house on
the place, raising your kids there, and just generally homesteading causes
one to continue on with what some in the family have called a “white
elephant.” That angered me when they first said it, now after all these
years I'm inclined to agree.”
“Others thought it as a
good idea so the area has grown up population wise. Where once we were the
only people here there are now, probably, at least sixteen families living
on our street, which by the way, I named, the street that is.”
“Only once did we have
someone who was a person who loved growing things. He was an elderly man
from Arkansas. To say he had a green thumb would be an understatement.
His whole body must have been green. This was the year he brought us
strawberries by the half bushel. Even though he had emphysema one could
see him tearing around the three properties he owned on his riding lawn
mower. Sometimes, after the dust of the mowing made him so weak and out of
breath it was with difficulty he made it as far as the front porch of his
place.”
Dee rambled along
complaining to her friend Chelsea who for years had to listen without
offering any solutions.
“Well, I thought your
garden did really well this year.” Chelsea was honest with her comment.
“What was that salad
dressing you made? It was wonderful.” Chelsea loved anything green.
“Put three cucumbers and
two limes, skin and all in a blender. Add some salt and pour it over
Romaine lettuce. If you are wondering about the fresh cucumbers those
came from my grandson's garden. I can't even grow cucumbers like that
here.”
“I thought your lasagne
gardening was doing well?” Chelsea was like her grandchildren who watched
her every move.
“Well, it did. Problem
being, I did not put in a big area, since who knew whether it would work
or not. You know, it does. If I'm not too stowed up and tired next year
I plan to do that again. It is so easy. My old newspapers from the news
office sprinkled with a little natural fertilizer, a layer of peat moss,
and a layer of top soil created a bed which was unbelievably good for the
plants. I measured the bottom leaves of the cabbage and they were over
thirty-six inches across.” Dee was enjoying this much of her success.
Chelsea in her wisdom knew
how to talk her out of her negative moments. “Speaking of cabbage, how did
you fix that red cabbage?”
“I sliced the cabbage in
shreds first, also grate two or three carrots and slice an onion. Then,
brown a handful of chopped ground chuck. Put that in a large kettle. Add
the cabbage, carrots, two small cans of tomato sauce and the sliced up
onion. You can add some onion powder too if you like. Add a large
Tablespoon of butter, salt to taste, and a quart of water. Cover it with
a tight lid and steam it until the
cabbage is tender.”
“I loved that red color of
the soup. It was different plus the taste was wonderful.” Like Dee,
Chelsea had been raised by a mother who gardened and she grew up loving
vegetables as well.
With Chelsea's
encouragement Dee was feeling better about her attempts to beautify the
edge of the ridge where they lived. She realized there was so much more
to be done though. The only real accomplishment she could see was the
fact that her grandson at four years old had a garden far better than
hers. The student with his parents help had surpassed the teacher and that
was progress. |