Garden

Transformer Robot in the Garden

A snippet of my morning to do list: deadhead flowers, then water all containers and tomatoes.  I love making my rounds throughout the yard watering can in tow each morning.  I feel as though I’m getting something accomplished long before the real work begins.  Scents abound as the dew slowly lifts and flowers share their unique fragrances.  I groom pots and quench them for the day ahead. Making my way to the tomatoes, one of my favourite garden plants.  Some may disagree, but I enjoy the pungent aroma that these babies emit, and even more-so, I love the fall bounty they’ll produce.

I enter the garden, shears and watering can ready.

Instinctively I take in that something is amok.  I drop the tools in hand and approach the heirlooms with trepidation.  Scanning the area, my mind racing, I realize an epic battle has taken place.  The Early-girls and Romas quiet sentinels.

Quite obviously Jess has been in the garden!

Debris lies scattered along the broad black space between the tomatoes and potatoes.  With a nod to my Dad I always leave plenty of space between the two!  Tiny pieces of white and navy blue plastic everywhere I look.  Judging by the surroundings this was quite a match.  My eyes land upon a mangled heap of dirt and white plastic.  Obviously dead.  I survey the area for more casualties.  None. Clearly this creature met his demise against whomever shed the blue bits during battle.

This scene, I swear encountered just this morning, takes me back in time.

Jess loved loves transformers!  And what better play setting than in the garden plot?  Where dirt, rocks, sand and gravel await his imagination.  I cannot begin to count how many times I’ve happened upon similar scenes, or worse, taken out a robot in disguise with the rototiller.  Oops!  A great gardener in the making, the boy is a good hand throughout the gardening season.  I marvel that all these years later, he’s 20 now, I’m finding remnants of his play.  Still a little boy at heart, do they ever grow out of it? I doubt it.

As I take it all in and debate grabbing the camera, I flashback to the days when he would list off all the members of the opposing clans.  And then quiz me on it!  An accepting interest in his passion, kept me in the game.  He loved to draw audiences in to his world.  I gladly went along.  Always cheering for the heroes, I knew just what to say when he asked who my favourite character was.

As I examine the fallen soldier, dusting away the dirt and grime, I’m relieved to see that he is not one of the good guys.  Another villain taken down, good-bye Decepticon, may you rest in peace.  I chuckle as I say out loud for all the fruits and vegetables to hear.    Call it habit or a Mother’s heartstrings –

Yes Jess, Optimus Prime is still my favourite!

 

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Saskatoon berries

So, it’s Saskatoon season, and I am freaking out over here. It’s my absolute favourite thing to harvest on the farm, and not being there when those juicy, amazing berries are ripe is just about breaking my heart.  I mean, LOOK AT THEM. THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL (sorry for shouting, I just can’t help it).

I’ve never been much for gardening, much to Mom’s dismay.

I used to joke when I was a kid that I would have a garden full of weeds when I was an adult because I was too lazy to pull them. I was convinced that I would discover some brilliant way to season and eat the plants that would grow wild of their own accord, but as Mom pointed out, if there was a way, someone would have already come up with it by now. At one point I attempted to grow some herbs on the fire escape of my apartment, but the squirrels demolished that plan so I’ve taken it as a sign from the universe that gardening is just not for me. I digress.

Despite my general dislike of plant maintenance, I never got tired of filling buckets upon buckets of Saskatoons, and often wouldn’t bother coming in for lunch on the days I was tasked with berry picking. I had usually eaten waaaayy more than I ever dropped into the pail (this love of Saskatoons undoubtedly influenced my nickname from Pop: Huckleberry Finn) .

In any case, the end of July is prime Saskatoon season.

The berries darken from a bright pink to a purple that is sometimes almost blue, and swell with juice that stains your hand when you pick them (as you can see).

They taste like a blueberry, except a million times better.  I’m serious, and I never EVER exaggerate. Apparently they taste similar to Huckleberries, but I’ve never had one, so I’m taking people’s word on that one…

Nothing makes me miss the farm quite like Saskatoon picking, and the family knows it.

Whenever they can Mom and Pop send a few frozen bags of them out my way so I can make a pie or two (more on that later). That being said, nothing beats how beautiful these little guys are when you first pick them: sweet, juicy, a little tart, with a bit of spice, sheer goodness. Mmm mm mmmm. I hope you guys know how jealous I am, and get picking!

 

 

 

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