I did it. Finally, half-a$$ed, but I planted the tomatoes, peas, carrots and peppers. I have a little raised bed garden just big enough for a few plants. My nemesis, the groundhog, will surely dig under the fence, jump over it or chew through it and eat my plants. But I will fight 'til the last pathetic, half-eaten sprout withers up.
Growing up with my grandparents next door was nice. We shared a yard, and gardening of all sorts was the hobby of choice for my mom and her dad. For several years, the vegetable garden could rival Crockett's. There were rows of things, not just a plant or two. Beans, lettuce, cucumbers, basil (basnigol), zucchini (always cucuzza or "googootz"), eggplant (mulignana), tomatoes, carrots, broccoli....oh how good the broccoli was. You could sit down and eat an entire bowl of it for supper. I think we did, actually. Tomato salad with fresh bread. I remember my grandmother frying the zucchini flowers. I also remember her sister, right next door, pickling the green tomatoes...which I have successfully begun to do, much to my surprise. I remember going in there helping to pick things, eating the string beans and the snap peas raw. I remember hating going out there and roasting in the summer heat...it was like some sort of torture that my mother inflicted upon me during the hottest part of the day. Lord I hated that, and was so indifferent about planting things in general. Now I go out there and roast in my own garden. You have to do these things with your kids I guess....torture them to plant a seed in their immature brains so that it sprouts when they're an adult.
How many things will get lost between myself and my children. It's a shame really. My kids probably won't pickle tomatoes. Even if they do, it won't be the same....they're not being taught an old world family secret by a true Italian woman. Thinking of this more and more, I have begun tracking and recording some of our family genealogy. It's come to a temporary halt though. I'd have to get my butt tot he library or some government building at this point to find any further information. It's sparked alot of discussion though with my husband and I, my parents, etc. My great grandparents came to America with little or no money in their pockets. Their occupations are listed on the ship manifests as farm laborers or just laborers. My grandparents did not make it past grade school. Yet, as my husband poignantly brought to light...they came here to make a better life for they're families, and they succeeded. It happened over the next few generations, but here we are....and life IS better. Do they know this? Really amazing when I think about it.
Anyway, I digress. My tomatoes plants are 4 feet tall now and I enjoy the task of tying them up with twine every time they grow a little more. My peppers are starting to peek out and the cucumber is sad looking. Before long, will have tomato salad and fresh Italian bread and basil for every night for weeks. When they stop turning red I'll pick the green ones and pickle them. Preparing those two things always makes me feel a warm connection to my ancestors inside.
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