The First Harvest
Of pepper(s) and The Hog
As you dear reader know by this point, we recently moved into a new home. One of my favorite features of said abode is the beautiful outdoor space that it comes with. Upon the twelve acres in which we reside are many features and landscapes. The one that excited me the most is a set of twelve separate raised beds. A nice fence, just over waist high encircles the garden. Well waist high for me, it practically towers over Sarah (it comes up to her chest). Since we’re in the woods, the fencing is a necessity and I thought it sufficient to protect our produce. I was so naive then.
We didn’t plan anything out, but with reckless abandon, sallied forth to our local garden center full of piss and vinegar. We bought a staggering amount starters. More plants than almost fit into our car, and we hurried home to slap those leafy bastards right into the ground. I was overjoyed and tried to contain my enthusiasm enough to form a series of cohesive plots. I put the Brassica in one bed, and the herbs in another. I made a salsa ready bed with tomatillo, jalapenos, and an heirloom tomato. I had trellises for the beans, extra space for my pumpkins and squash, room for the watermelon and cantaloupe to sprawl, and even one full bed available flowers. I went hard, and Sarah was instrumental in getting everything in the ground. Melissa was there too, but not nearly as helpful. She just wanted to dig in the dirt, and didn’t understand that we had to do a certain depth for some plants. That makes sense though, she’s still just a kid, but it was nice to have her involved.
Thus our garden was formed, and we left it alone for quite a while. We watered it every so often, weeded less frequently, and waited with baited breathe as it grew. It grew and grew and grew. I chipped away at some of the plants where I could, taking a few chives here and there, snipping off some thyme and rosemary for my steak, and trimming back my onions to put scallions on practically everything. I plucked cherry tomatoes, still warm from the sun, snacked on green beans, and took daily expeditions to monitor how the dahlias were progressing. This was the golden age of the garden, approaching the zeitgeist and then the final stage that all empires are destined, the inevitable and violent collapse.
It started with the broccoli. We harvested a few heads, and noticed a few more had conspicuous pieces missing. Then it was the parsley. I went to harvest some for the first time in a few days and there was more missing than there should be. Next it came for the tomatoes, and even though we had more than we could possibly eat, seeing the tragic remains strewn across the ground was heartbreaking. The first suspect was the chipmunk, and his culpability was confirmed when he was busted eating a cherry tomato on the rocks outside. However, the true scope of the crimes being perpetrated required a larger species of Rodentia. I named it…. The Hog.
The Hog was as crafty as it was voracious. It consumed and could not be stopped. It tunneled under fence and gate. We put rocks on one of it’s entrance tunnels and it just created more. It could not be stopped, and I contemplated taking drastic action. Only Sarah’s affection for groundhogs and the fact that I didn’t want to explain to Melissa why the corner of a garden bed was splattered red the same time as the cute groundhog disappeared stopped me from violence. The Hog was winning, and I wept.
It wasn’t all a horror show of vegetable viscera however, and despite the consumption of The Hog, we still harvested. Snap peas and green beans grew on trellis’s. Basil, Sage, Thyme, Rosemary, and even Cilantro adorned many of Chef Drew’s dishes. Fresh Lettuce formed the foundation of many a salad and topped even more turkey club’s (with chive and scallion mayo for me).
The Jalapeno’s flourished next to the monstrous tomatillo and many a red and green salsa was enjoyed. We planted pumpkins and they went wild. We planted cantaloupes and they went mild. We planted watermelons and they were small, but mighty. Our squash sprawled over the edges and the vines from everything were everywhere.
The pride and joy (besides the tomatillo plant, that thing is taller than I am) were the dahlias. We got them in the mail as tubers from a good friend in Vermont. They’re Sarah’s favorite flower and I was excited to get some crazy varieties. We picked a mix of types to try this year, but were so hooked that we’ve been inspired to start a cut flower garden next year and do more. Many, many more.
Anyway, just as The Hog seems to have vanished from this blog, so too did it vanish from the garden. Like the ethereal or mystical creature it was, suddenly it wasn’t. It slid back into the metaphorical mist, troubling us no more. Honestly I’m not sure what happened to it, there was more food than it’s little body could handle, it had a burrow close by, but it just decided to move onto other pastures. Who am I kidding, something ate it. I know it wasn’t our cats though. The most weeny of the 5 that we have came face to face with the super sized mouse and he backed down. Our cat got checked by a rodent, and scurried away, tail tucked between it’s legs. The shame!
The other good news is that our garden was a wild success. Not a complete success, but definitely a wild one. I did not plan, I did not strategize, nor did I think too hard about the foods that we both eat. I went nutso at the plant store, shoved plants in the ground, and waged war against The Hog. Next year we’ll put in more of what we want to eat, use some of the fringe spaces better (looking at you pumpkins. You’re vines are outrageous, and I’m still hopping over them to get at some of the beds), and do a better job weeding. All in all, a great learning experience, a good harvest, and a lot of fun. 10/10 would put hands in dirt again!
