At Least I Got the Laundry In

A bit more than an inch of rain last night, and blessed be every drop.
It washed the dust from the leaves. It filled up the flower pots. It watered the tomatoes. It made a little puddle outside the packing shed.
It softened the ground enough to pull weeds. It maybe softened the ground enough to receive a plow.
I've quite a few flowers waiting to get into the ground, but have been keeping them in the greenhouse. At least there I can water them. There are weeds in an old lettuce bed. They need to be disked in. Curly dock has gone to seed - I want to cut the seed stalks off and carry them far, far away. Rocks used to weigh down landscape fabric are still in the strawberry patch. They need to be picked up before I can turn that dirt over. The roller pump is seized. It's soaking in diesel. The peppers and eggplant bear little babies, almost ready to pick. The second squash planting is starting to bear, magnificently.
The milkweed is blooming. Bumblebees really like milkweed.
I really like milkweed, too. It's agood place to watch bumblebees.

I Was a Bit Indecisive in Foam & Fabric This Week

if only I had known

An Intergenerational Study on the Appeal of Corms

The gladiolus are in. (Gladioli?)
Slowly, the blooms crawl up the stalks and unfold, not unlike an old radio serial drama.
I cut them and bring them to market, stick them in a big plastic bucket and let people buy them.
"Oh, gladiolus! My grandmother used to grow these!"
And people purchase, presumably, the simplicity of yesteryear.
Does anyone other than people's memories of their grandmothers still grow gladioli, and if not, why are they still offered in catalogs? Has no one seen a glad since they were six, skipping across grandma's front yard with a skinned knee and a nickel Coke?
I didn't start growing glads as some attempt at hipster cred, I grant you, but neither did I anticipate the overwhelming reaction would be one of nostalgia. I'm left wondering why people are so quick to snap up the glads and so reluctant to grab onto something more current, say, lime green echinacea.
It introduces the largeridea of the appeal of farmer's markets in the first place. Whilst I grant you that many customers want nothing greater than fresh, local organic produce, there may be many who want just a little more for their dollar.
Simplicity? Innocence? The, um, good old days? There's no question that the iconic American farm is a powerful marketing tool. Look only to the verdant rows of crops and the well-constructed barns that adorn the labels of so many food products. These are not simple times, and we seek comfort in the appeal of the hearth. The land. Main Street. A few stems of gladioli.
Thus, a farmer's market, touted by some as the food source of the future, owes a lot of it's success to the past. Farmer's markets are a portal to another time, when life isn't so hectic and times are simpler. They're like Cracker Barrel, only without bathrooms.

Mkt

What are these?
Squash blossoms.
What do you do with them?
Fry 'em in butter.
Some people stuff them with cheese.
Or a rice/herb mix. Anything. Use your imagination.
Some people fry 'em in a tempura batter.
You can put them in grits.
You can put them in an omelet.
They're good raw in salads.
They're great with fish.