Putting the Garden to Bed for the winter

It’s a bittersweet day when I finish putting the garden to bed. It means that I’ve given up on any more warm spells, I’ve harvested every last tomato and pepper, and I’m nearly ready to open the garden gates to let the rabbits forage through the months we call winter.

The tie-ups are removed, sitting in a pile in the garage so they can dry. I’ve never seen the point in washing them. They’ll dry over the winter and be ready for tying up a whole new batch of seedlings next summer. The tomato supports are set aside, too, resting against the garage near the rain barrels. The barrels need to be emptied and upended so they won’t freeze and break in the winter temperatures. That will happen tomorrow or Sunday if all goes as planned.

                colorful tomato supports

I gave in and stocked up on acorn and butternut squash at last week’s downtown farmers’ market. Stored properly, the squash will last a long time. Now that I’ve discovered Amigo likes squash, I’ll cook it more often. This young man likes very few vegetables. I sense a butternut squash soup coming up soon!

                                          squash and apples

The raspberry patch will weather the weather well and the aforementioned rabbits will prune any or all of it for me. I pretend they’re doing it to say thanks for the winter food source. Really, they’re probably laughing through their teeth at the silly human who thinks she’s doing them a favor, these small furry creatures who’ve been finding weak spots in the fence all summer long.

The mini-greenhouse shelving is indoors now. The sage and parsley weren’t doing well, so I might replant them. The basil that went wild has been picked, processed with a little olive oil, and frozen. The oregano, rosemary, and thyme are still thriving. I hope they last! I sense a few homemade pizzas with fresh herbs in our future.

It’s a mixed feeling, indeed, saying goodbye to the plants I’ve nurtured from seed. But don’t worry, readers, it’s not a true blue funk or melancholy. Putting the greens down to rest isn’t the end; it’s a new beginning. I’m already planning which tomatoes to plant next year, which peppers, and where they’ll go to use the soil to its best advantage. Speaking of soil, I’d like to stir the compost one more time. The heat in the middle will keep it decomposing so I can dig it out and spread it in the spring.

Until we get a long lasting freeze, the parsley is still trying to grow.

                                                            parsley

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Farmers’ Market Quiz time!

Here it is, readers. Look at the photo below, and leave your guesses in the comments. Which foods are from the market, and which are from my backyard jungle, er, garden?

                                                Market Feast!

Oh, by the way, these didn’t fit in the first photo, so they get their own.

                                            Tomato! Tomahto!

Well, readers? Take a guess and leave a comment.

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Fortunately – Unfortunately

We’re home! We’re back in our routines, including meeting with friends and going to the farm markets. Fortunately, there is a mid-week market in the grocery store parking lot on Wednesdays.

I’m not growing zucchini this year. Can you tell?

Unfortunately, Chuck thought I went overboard.

Fortunately, I have good recipes for zucchini bread and zucchini cookies.

I met a friend for coffee. Unfortunately, I ran late. Fortunately, I found a great parking place and we had delicious coffee as we worked.

                                                            Lovely, tasty beverage!

Fortunately, I donated zucchini bread when I did a little volunteer work for the Obama campaign.

Unfortunately, I didn’t plug the meter with enough change.

                                                A $5 Ticket!$@#^!

I dropped off the Obama postcards at the post office and then went to City Hall to pay my dues. It’s a small price to pay to help re-elect the president. Fortunately, I had change for the meter that time. Unfortunately, I left the change in my pocket. Fortunately, the meter readers were still canvassing the blocks by the political offices. So… I made another investment in downtown and brought home smoothies for me and Amigo.

Oh, what a day. I think I’ll go hide in the tomato jungle. At least I don’t have to pay for parking there.

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Market Day! I’m missing Market Day!

I’m out of town today, and the downtown Farmers’ Market goes on without me. I will force myself to rest rather than go through withdrawal by thinking about last week’s loot.

                       Last Saturday’s Fresh Foods

See the basket? Here’s another view of these all-important ingredients.

It was a busy few days in the OkayByMe kitchen. We’ll be well stocked for winter.

It was a busy day, that is, followed by a quick trip to the midweek market. I didn’t buy much; I just picked up a few basics.

                        The Take from the Midweek Market

More cukes for sweet pickles, sweet corn, blueberries, and some very pretty bell peppers. What’s that in the basket with the picklers?

                               My new life philosophy

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At the market, paper or plastic?

I bring my own bags. I even get snippy if the sellers and cashiers insist I take theirs. At the Farmers’ Market, however, it’s becoming a problem. I use my own collection of bags, but I still come home each week with a few plastic bags, and I can’t seem to avoid them..

Market Goodies, July 7

That weekend we had plastic around the bread and the cookies, the organic pasta (oh, it was good pasta!) and the seafood.

Goodies from the July 14 trip

The lettuce was packed in plastic to make it easier for the vendor. Each bag was pre-weighed. I took the carrots and onion without a bag. I handed the vendor my own bag in which to weigh the peaches. But after buying sugar snap peas, green beans, blueberries and raspberries,  I still ended up coming home with this.

                Too many bags!

Okay, the green one on the right is mine. It stays in my purse stuffed into its own tiny storage sack most of the time. But the rest? The only solution I’ve found so far is to hand the vendor a bag and say, “Use this one, please” or “Let’s reuse this one; I don’t need a new bag.”

Thoughts, readers? Ideas? I look forward to your input. I’d love to kick the plastic habit to the curb. I’m on the way.

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To Market, to Market

Tuo market, to market, to buy – you fill in the blank. I didn’t buy pork, so the original “to buy a fat pig” doesn’t really work.

It was a typical Saturday, mostly. I woke up later than intended and ended up going to the downtown farmers’ market by myself. Chuck had a commitment that he couldn’t miss, so we didn’t go to market together, as is our normal Saturday. I picked up my usual collection of bags and found my way to our parking ramp.

Then I stumbled and twisted an ankle. Ouch. I stepped on it gingerly, determined it was a minor pain, and continued into the marketplace called College Avenue, our town’s equivalent of Main Street.

I bought my usual goodies  quickly, and didn’t dawdle for more. I wanted to get off my feet (and ankle) before overdoing and causing myself trouble.

Of course I took pictures!

Many Pleasures from The Market

A close-up will show what I have planned for later this weekend.

Pickling Cucumbers!

You can see I’ve already made one batch of bread and butter pickles. Last year I made two, and we went through each and every pickle. Yum! Maybe I’ll grind up the ends for relish instead of compost. Maybe.

But first, I settled into the recliner to watch my Milwaukee Brewers play their hearts out at their home field, and rested my silly twisted ankle.

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Market Day!

Saturday at the market! If I’m of town or unable to go on a Saturday, I get upset. I go through withdrawal. Chuck was at the car dealer getting an oil change in his vehicle, so he came downtown later, when I had half the shopping finished. He met me at Starbucks (a central location, no comments needed from the peanut gallery) to finish the job. We came home with these goodies.

                          Market Day!

The ordinary goods are in their places – carrots, lettuce, parsley, berries du jour (cherries). We picked up a few imported peaches (Georgia) and greenhouse tomatoes since our tomato plants aren’t fully mature yet. I have enough peas (even Amigo likes them!) to freeze for the future, so I bought beans. But wait – there’s more!

More than just fresh produce!

It’s easy to get tempted to buy something different, like an artisan infused vinegar or a local honey. While I waited in line to rehydrate with a pomegranate-cherry smoothie, Chuck slipped into a small local deli and bought a mozzarella salad, cheese, and a Belgian Red from New Glarus. I picked out two flavors of pasta, both local and organic, to make dinner more interesting and tasty later in the week. Somehow, impulse buys at the farmers’ market are much more palatable than, say, an impulse buy at the shoe store.

After-the-fact shopping list.

  • Fresh vegetables, delicious and nutritious.
  • Fresh fruits unavailable in the backyard garden – at least for now.
  • New adventures in food, organic and locally made
  • Priceless. All of it.

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Where to Keep the Canned Goods

There must be a better way.

This is the “before” picture. I’ve increased my repertoire of canned foods every year, and with that increase in recipes came an increased yield. Then comes the question: where do I keep all these provisions? And after we finish each jar of pickles or jam or applesauce, where will I keep the reusable jars? Above you see the dilemma in June: a partial shelf of pickles and jams and applesauce and rhubarb waiting for their day on the table, surrounded by empty canning jars and freezer containers.

Something here must go.

Step 1: I cleaned out half the books at the top.

Step 2: I gathered boxes for a thrift store donation (shelves out of sight on the left).

Step 3: I relocated the crockpot and reorganized the jars by size.

Step 4: Move in!!

Ah. That’s better.

Readers, this is the “after” shot – the “after” shot for June. After I’ve canned my way through June and July and even part of August, this cupboard will look very different. I’ll be sure to show you then. Remind me. Really. And while we’re at it, readers, tell me about your summer reorganization projects. Canning supplies? Books? Thrift donations? Leave a comment.

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Notes on the First Farmers’ Market of the Season

Note to self: Go early. By 10:15 all the asparagus was gone, and strawberries supplies were selling like hotcakes. Not that hotcakes are a bad thing; Chuck turned 3 peaches into a fruity pancake lunch.

Note to self: hold wheeled bag close to self. Three other shoppers ran into or over the bag. One said, “Excuse me,” but the others glared at me. ?$@#!? I wasn’t the only one with a bag on wheels or a wagon – not by a long shot. I was run over by a toddler’s stroller and a fast walker. The women with a wheelchair was more polite than either of the others.

Note to self: Take time. Inhale. Egg rolls, roasted corn, strawberries, and more decorate the air. There are at least three coffee shops on the main drag, too. Mmm.

Note to self: Overrule Chuck when necessary. At first he wanted to buy strawberries, then he didn’t, and eventually I made the decision myself. Self, trust self’s opinion and experience.

Note to self: Make notes. Bring a list. Take inventory on Friday nights. Sorghum, honey, maple syrup, fresh cheeses – all are available downtown at the Farmers’ Market. Be ready to buy!

Note to self: Take time. Listen. Buskers, young violinists, and more musicians dot the avenue and provide entertainment.

Note to self: bring more bags. We came home with three plastic bags today in addition to using our own cloth. Where did that vinyl book bag go? It was perfect for berries because it washed so well.

Note to self: Enjoy. See below.

The take, spread out in the kitchen.

Note to self: View the afternoon to-do list – see below. Ah, it’s summertime.

Strawberries!

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A well-stocked pantry rules the world.

Pantry Raid

Pantry Raid. It sounds so much more dignified than leftovers. Well, maybe. I came home one night just exhausted from school, unmotivated to cook. In the distant past, this feeling would have meant calling for pizza. Luckily, Chuck does the grocery shopping, and he does it well. All I have to do on any given night is put it all together.

I pulled together a package of fresh ravioli from the refrigerator, tomato sauce from a jar I’d started a few days earlier, grated cheese on top – and called it supper. I think we had a lettuce salad on the side.

This has become a point of pride in our home: the ability to create a decent meal without resorting to the phone or to convenience foods. The ravioli was pre-made, but it was from the dairy case, not the C-rations aisle. It was on sale, so Chuck bought it for just this type of day. The tomato sauce and the grated cheddar completed the dish. The more creative we can be in the kitchen, the less money we spend on take-out or delivery. And since my future financial security is in the hands of the weasel in Madison, anything that saves money and still feeds the family has value.

Did you really think I’d get through an entire post without mentioning the upcoming recall election? Hah.

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