Saturday, June 15, 2013
My father didn't take much interest in gardening. Perhaps he'd spent too much time on farms as a kid and didn't want to do physical labor anymore. Or maybe he'd worked so hard for his advanced degrees that he no longer enjoyed non-academic pursuits. My mother liked gardening and loved fresh vegetables, but thank goodness our next door neighbor was generous because his garden was much more bountiful than ours.
I'm the kind of gardener my mother was: not brilliant, but not bad. I grow a few things. We will have tomatoes this year, and maybe something else. I'm still weeding, so no guarantees. But I begin to see why Mother persisted, even though our neighbor was happy to share. There's something primal about growing it yourself.
This year's first two plum phases are past (1: blossoms, 2: green fruit). Phase 3 is the red and ready-to-pick part. Every day now our little tree offers up at least one ripe, little plum.
Phase 4: savor.