I had to pinch myself this morning when I realized the garden was ready to give back. Is this true? Something we’d grown in our backyard actually gave us something back .. other than lemons. Lemon actually, in singular form. I’ve grown so many fun shrubs and herbs in my patio gardens in California but I’ve never successfully grown anything I could bite into other than a lemon. Which I threw into a cold corona and insisted on biting it (despite hating the over ripe flavor) .. and talked about the earth, universe and everything else with my best friend on a Friday night.
You’ve probably seen some pics of my garden / backyard from the previous posts. It’s gorgeous. Despite living in a rental apartment I spent a fortune cleaning the unkempt mass of mess that this place was and replaced it with all the green lush. It was part of the ‘can money buy me some love’ strategy with my little girl. It worked like magic. She loves to hang out there. But so do I. I do have a gardener .. the apartment community insisted and he’s the community gardener. This whole thing was so funny and ironical to me. Never having a yard or garden in the suburbs of California despite owning homes and then showing up in dusty, high tech Bangalore city center and living in a 1000 sq ft apartment with a garden practically 3/4 the size of the apartment itself. And to top it all a gardener who took care of the basic stuff. I’d personally looooove to do this all myself but with the ongoing madness of simply settling down, I think I’ll limit myself to nurturing a few plants in my veggie patch.
All that said — here’s what the first harvest looked like. She was beauuuuuuutiful. Fenugreek leaves. Gorgeous, fresh … she was practically singing to me when we got her off the patch. I almost cried. First ever harvest of anything edible.
The day was exhausting. We finally got our 7th carpenter that my lovely husband Daddy A fired as well. Stressful day. Tried to get our girl back into the school groove by getting her to a new summer camp with the neighbor’s kid. That didn’t work out so well either but we’re giving this the whole trial. The entire month. It’s camp for goodness’ sake. There was a lot of crying again. Just handling all of this took up my entire day and then suddenly I heard these ladies sing to me again. My mother in law (who’s visiting us) and I got together and planned what to do with them. Methi theplas (chappathi like bread) tonight and vendaya keera kozhambu tomorrow! That was that. We got to all the kneading and rolling and everything.
It was 7.30 pm. Already late for dinner. My daughter smacked her lips as she finished her 3 pieces (all the minis she made herself plus 2 big ones) and I realized we didn’t have any curries. We’d been so busy making these and working the carpenter and managing a swim session for the little devil who’d turned into a streaker, running across the park from the pool naked after seeing her akkas in the pool who she wanted to join (she removed all her clothes down to her diaper at the pool and ran across the entire stretch of the building at light speed to find her swim suit only to hear mom tell her she’s crazy and can’t go in the pool without daddy or mommy and then daddy went so phew!) … I digress ..
But here’s what happened. Daddy was promptly sent to the roadside restaurant down the street (yes … there I said it … not literally like on a cart, I can’t do those just yet but a small hole in the wall place) to bring kebabs off the charcoal grill. And boy O boy did he!!?!
After shamelessly burping out loudly as a family .. we rushed the little one to bed promising her she could go to summer camp despite the way day 1 went (oddly enough she wanted to go back .. so there’s hope). These little gals go right back in the veggie pouch for some yummy kozhambu tomorrow.
My first harvest of anything ever! Loved every little leafy goodness. BURRRPPPP!! Oops.