The first week of August ranks as one of the very best times for gardening, second only to perhaps the anticipatory tilling and planting of spring, with all its promise.
Right now is when all that possibility comes to a very real peak. The seeds that went from sprouts to vines to flowers are now putting out plump cucumbers faster than we can keep up with. The plants I caged and trimmed and tapped my toes at while waiting for their green orbs to ripen are finally giving us tomatoes in hues of red, orange, yellow, and purple. The pepper seedling I accidentally stepped on in May, thinking it would never recover, is prolifically producing jalapeños with fiery heat.
Jagger plucked a cucumber from its vine the other day and said, “You grew it, and I picked it.” Then we both said: “Well, we grew it together.” And that was very cute.
It’s good for him to see the garden’s successes along with its hiccups. Like our zucchini patch, which was nearly all destroyed by evil squash vine borers.
And while our raised fence has been great at keeping out deer, one perseverant groundhog did tunnel his way in, taking out our bush beans in the process.
We found him in there the other day, scurrying around, digging, looking for havoc to wreak. We yelled at him to get out (he didn’t). I even poked him with a stick (not my finest decision) to expedite his departure. He eventually ran out and away. I made a note to order more cayenne pepper.
Teri and I both value experiences over things, and we try to impart that to Jagger. (Last weekend we took him to a county fair and a Kidz Bop concert, thinking that memories of thrill rides and singalongs might last longer than another plastic tchotchke from Target.) I like that the garden is something we can all experience together, and it gives us things, too.
We’ve been having a lot of panzanella salads with all those tomatoes and cucumbers — sometimes with a ball of burrata, sometimes with grilled skirt steak — using challah, ciabatta, or whatever bread we have for croutons. And there’s usually a creamy, green goddess-inspired sauce in our fridge at all times, made by blending together tons of garden basil, sage, rosemary, tarragon, and dill with Greek yogurt, lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper.
Salads and herb sauces are definitely things Jagger does not value as much as a new Pokémon card or Nintendo Switch game at this moment. But I know he gets that we “grew it together,” and that’s an experience worth sharing.
Until next time — thank you for reading!
Bonus gardening content: Here are 17 veggies and herbs you can plant right now for a fall harvest (from a Home & Design special section I edited for The Philadelphia Inquirer).
This is on the top of my list as the best Tiny Seeds!!
How is the Pippin doing? I have a few dark purple fruits but eagerly awaiting them to turn orange!!