When someone who knows me in that place called “the real world” asks me for the url for my blog, I think about what the most current blog post is before handing over the secret code to get to it.
Then I tell them “Let me know if I need to explain anything…”.
Apparently, there are some things to explain, like this squash.
When I take it to work and offer it to any takers, I usually get some puzzled looks.
“How do you cook it?”
“Like summer squash.”
“You mean zucchini.”
“Did you grow any zucchini squash?”
“Just try this, you’ll like it, I promise.”
And they do like it.
I love the round squash and that is almost all that I grow anymore. It’s very prolific and comes in light green (‘Cue Ball’), dark green (‘Eight Ball’) and golden yellow (‘One Ball’). There is also a mottled, more oblong variety called ‘Ronde de Nice’. Oh, and another round squash called ‘Tondo Scoro di Piacenza’ that Leslie from Growing a Garden in Davis sent me some seeds for.
But forget the squash, what most people would like me to bring them are tomatoes. This year I’m growing a variety called ‘Reisetomate‘.
It looks like a bunch of little tomatoes all globbed together. You are supposed to tear the pieces off to eat individually, sort of like how you would peel off sections of an orange to eat it.
I’ve decided to keep these for myself as my little secret because it will be easier than a) trying to explain what it is and b) trying to pronounce that German name.
I didn’t dream I’d have to explain okra.
But as it turns out, there are some people who don’t know what okra is, and still others, many others, who think okra is too slimy to eat. Frances of Fairegarden actually suggested that the best recipe for okra is to let the pods grow and dry on the plant and then use them to decorate fall wreaths.
Well, I never! Okra clearly needs its own public relations firm to help improve its image.
I’m only growing it so I have some to fry up to see if it tastes like the fried okra that I remember eating when we visited my southern Indiana grandparents in the summertime.
In their honor, all the vegetables displayed today are arranged on a dessert plate that was part of a set of plates my grandmothr purchased in 1953 to use at a dinner for her parents’ 60th wedding anniversary.
I haven’t fried the okra up quite yet, but I can explain why that is, too.
It is true what they say. You can just step down on your foot and sprain it. I never believed you could, but you can. I was sitting at my desk at work yesterday, intently working and doing what I do at work, and my foot went to sleep. When I got up, I didn’t realize how dead asleep that foot was and stepped down on it very hard and very awkwardly. It didn’t hurt at the time, but by the time I got home I could barely walk on it.
So rather than fry okra and fix my first ear of sweet corn, I iced my foot.
I had it checked out today and the good news is that it probably isn’t broken, just sprained. The bad news is that it hurts to walk on the uneven lawn. But I hope with intensive ice therapy, I’ll be back in mowing condition by Thursday, maybe Friday at the latest!
Is there anything else that needs explanation?