without fail whenever i read an issue of organic gardening (thank hubby for the subscription), it makes me want to garden. more than just the biweekly (or so) lawn mowing and edge trimming.
as happened yesterday, the reading.
so out i went, to pick some broccoli leaves for lunch. the leaf-blossom ratio on our plants is about 20:1, so working with what we have here. it's bad enough that i, unaware of the possibility of eating broccoli leaves, threw some out that were cluttering the walkway.
here are some of the leaves that had not been munched on by other things before, things that leave holes in the leaves and things which i don't want to mingle saliva with.
i washed them, then skipped the drying, just shook them off [i like to shake things off, at least i try] and into the hot olive oil with sizzling garlic.
i read that if you don't dry them, the added steam helps wilt the leaves faster.
it always delighted me to learn scientific justifications for my modi operandi born from laziness.
tasted good. a little chew-intense, but i can't be bothered to cut off stems, or waste them. the hard boiled eggs were hardly boiled at lunch time so i only ate this green stuff and supplemented it with ice cream later.
next on the active agenda: sow things posthaste instead of thinking two weeks on, 'had i sewn that lettuce back when i thought of it, i could be eating it now.' a new vegetable bed, weeded and... turned over now lies beneath the kitchen window. much more accessible than the strip between our house and the fence where the broccoli grows. what grows there, grows. what doesn't won't be resown or receive any special care. i'm that kind of gardener. enthusiastic but... economic with my energy. i wouldn't quite say lazy. others might. to my face? i hope not.
economic energy-wise and öcken-wise. i sewed in front of the kitchen window spinach and lettuce since i still had those seeds. i'd have liked to get some tomato plants started indoors, but no seeds. well, well.
look what was still on the surviving tomato plant, outside, in february.
seeds! the only tomatoes i picked from those plants all last year. animals must have beaten me to it. this year, in a sunnier spot, in front of that sink window, maybe there will be more.
i dissected them to extricate what i hope will be the seeds of this year's (what i hope will be a) crop.
here you see clumps that contain what looks like seeds. if they are ready to procreate, i don't know. but with another thrifty, fantastic tip from organic gardening, 'twas no cost nor inconvenience but crafting fun to roll some seedling cups from newspaper around a glass, steal some of the soil out of the weeded weeds' roots, and plant what i had.
had an extra cup.
0 comments:
Post a Comment