Preparing for winter

With a 'V' of geese flying overhead and the sun setting in the west, this knuckle of folks pulled withered tomato vines and sad-looking pansies. We left some kale, a bed of lettuce, and a little cilantro that might make it through a few more frosts, but mostly the garden is ready for a rest until April.

Last week--thanks to everyone--we nosed over a thousand pounds of produce that was harvested and donated to Neighborhood House!

Fall Friday Fresh

It was fun harvesting peppers, Chinese broccoli, and other leafy plants this cool, fall morning. My hands still smell like cilantro. The garden is breathing in the chilly night air and the cold-loving plants are happy. Runners on Summit Avenue have switched from tees and shorts to hoodies and sweats, but they still pause in front of the garden to pick our sweet strawberries.

Go big green!

807!
We are not done harvesting, but as of September 19, we've donated 807 pounds to the food shelf. Thank you planters, pickers, deliverers, and partners.

Evening garden

Next week it is supposed to frost. Many of the squash have been cut and tomato production is coming to a close. We are having a great year.

Shots taken the evening of September 13 in the garden


We couldn't have done it without our volunteers and quality seeds and transplants from Johnny's Select Seeds; the University of Minnesota's student garden, Cornercopia; and, Friend School of Minnesota's Plant Sale. We greatly appreciate the support we've received from House of Hope congregation, staff, and lay leadership, and we can't forget to tip our hats to the irrigation!

Volunteers come in all shapes and sizes

We happily get help from volunteers of all ages.

 Sometimes with smaller hands, keener eyes, and a willing spirit, we reach into those tight spots, and discover hidden treasures...

...other times it's just plain strong backs!

Aromatics

Harvesting first thing in the morning is the best! I hardly knew where to begin until I saw a whale-like cucumber lurking below the vines. Tomatoes were literally dropping into my hands, and within the hour I had harvested several bags of peppers, eggplant, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, chard, and Chinese broccoli. A fifty-pound morning was pretty good for the two hours I worked.

Cutting the sage and thyme was the highlight. Perfume filled the air as the scissors sliced away.

August Harvest

Today (Tuesday) we dropped off 73 pounds of produce at the food shelf, resulting in a grand total of 556 pounds of fresh veggies so far for the 2012 growing season! I thought, since the tomatoes were so beautiful this morning--no offense to the peck of tomatillos or peppers--that we should offer up a poem.

Ode to Tomatoes

by Pablo Neruda (Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden)

The street
filled with tomatoes,
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera,
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhaustible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it’s time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth,
recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.

-from Odas elementales. © 1954