My eggplant, zucchini, and squash plants have been looking a little crispy lately - I'm not sure if it's overwatering, the container's I'm growing them in, or just the end of their productive season, but it's slightly depressing. I think I'm going to hold-off on watering for a little bit and see if things turn around. The main problem is that they've been dropping a lot of leaves. They're all still blooming, though. Hey, I said this year was going to be a learning year, right?
On a good note, though, my pepper plants have been producing an overabundance of red and green peppers. I've deliberately left a few jalapeno and banana peppers on the vine to turn red.
Tonight I harvested a nice mix of green and red peppers and made some cheese quesadillas with fresh salsa and guacamole. I layered the quesadillas with cheddar, monterey jack, diced jalapeno/banana peppers, and some cilantro. The salsa was a quick slurry of garden tomatoes, diced vidalia onion, diced jalapeno/banana peppers, a clove of garlic, and more cilantro. The guacamole was a mash of avocado (duh), lime juice, more vidalia onion, another clove of garlic (gotta love that garlic), and salt and pepper. I have to say, it was a YUMMY dinner. Salsa made from scratch is so much better than the jarred mushy stuff you buy in the store. If it's summer, make your own damn salsa!
I've been thinking about my plans for the fall garden. Some things are obviously going to remain in their containers until frost, such as the herbs, peppers, and tomatoes. The things that will be replaced include the peas, dill, cucumbers, and probably the eggplant, zucchini, and squash (if they don't shape up in the very near future).
Tonight I went ahead and pulled the pea and dill plants as they were brown and clearly dead. Just for the hell of it, since I didn't give them a fair shot this spring, I planted some green onions in both pots. I'll see if I can't get a better return this time around now that the onions won't be competing with lettuce for sunlight.
As much as I'd like to order some fun new seeds for this fall, I'm going to hold off until next spring to do more experimenting in the garden. My theme for next spring is going to be "heirloom." More on that later. So what that means for this fall is that I'll be sticking with the seeds that produced well earlier this spring, like the beets, radish, and possibly lettuce or carrots.
I finally got some time at home to just putter (as much as you can putter on a small balcony) in the garden and do some cleaning up. As much as I'd like to just chuck the brown leaves and branches over the railing, it really doesn't look that nice in the yard and I'm sure the neighbors wouldn't appreciate it - I ended up with a nice sack full of clippings and dead leaves. There's something about "making the rounds" and tidying things up that make you feel calm and at one with the earth. My brain may be racing and dizzyingly anxious with my first step outside, but I quickly find that after losing myself in the first 10 or 15 minutes of patient tending, my mind has become remarkably clear and quiet. It's like losing yourself in a great book - 2 hours can go by and it may only feel like 10 minutes. Zen, no?
I am really starting to feel fall just around the corner. Something in the air, something in the way the insects sound at night, something in the sunrise and sunset. The approach of this fall is carrying mixed feelings for me. While fall is my most favorite season, it was last fall, last Labor Day, that I has my first episode with panic and anxiety.
For some reason I very closely associate memories with the time of year that they occurred. Specifically, events that occurred at this time last year are most fresh in my mind. I'm not necessarily scared to face those memories, but they're not something that I am particularly nostalgic about.
I can most painfully remember the walks I would take last fall at my old job. My mind would be so dizzied, so stunned by anxiety and worry; my stomach would be in knots; my vision would be bleary; my heart would beat to a terrifying rhythm; it felt like a 50lb weight was pressing down on my chest...I felt like crawling out of my skin. Knowing that I couldn't just leave, my last desperate resort would be taking a walk at Hauck Gardens, a small urban park sandwiched in the middle of Clifton. The juxtaposition of huge, centuries old trees and greenery with the nauseating, panicked feeling in my heart is something that I will never forget.
I'm grateful for where I am now with my life - it's miles away from last year. I'm grateful that I'm not stuck in my house, scared to drive and be around people. I'm grateful that I had the strength to get a new job and leave my old comfortable, yet unhealthy job behind. I'm grateful that I am surrounded by a small yet amazing group of people who care about me and love me unconditionally. As scary as last fall was, this "anniversary" of sorts will be proof to myself that I have the strength to overcome and learn from almost anything.
No comments:
Post a Comment