The produce photos are piling up. At the same time, I find that I’m a little short on words, which is perhaps entirely normal when a life becomes utterly saturated with produce: the fridge, the freezer, the pantry, the garden, table tops, the basement, and the back porch. For a while we considered displaying our home-made canned pears, tomato sauce, salsa, jams and pickles throughout the house in the same way that others might thoughtfully place flower arrangements, family photos or trinkets. But after careful consideration, we realized the absurdity of this idea (seemed too much like something we’d see on the pages of Martha Stewart) and went with convention, placing them on some shelves in the kitchen.
Here is the pictorial evidence of how things are shaping up around here.
Here are our beautiful shelling beans just days before the entire poorly built trellis came crashing down onto an out-of-control, land-hungry tomatillo (greed doesn’t pay). A simple case of poor construction on my part, heavy beans and strong winds. Tom came to the garden yesterday and helped prop the bean stalks back up so that they can continue their lives upright, and so that the tomatillo can continue its Manifest Destiny.
Last Sunday we went to GM Farm on Sauvie Island to pick peaches. But the peaches were done for the season, and as soon as we got out of the truck, rain drenched the fields. We took cover under the tented fruit stand. Tom looked away for a second and by the time he turned back around I’d managed to buy about 15 pounds of canning-ready pears and two heads of cabbage for kraut. It goes without saying that the rest of the day was spent in the kitchen doting on pears and cabbage. In the end we had about eight quarts of pears, and now one week later, we are beginning to make our way through our 1/2 gallon of delicious, tangy kraut.
Then there are the cucumbers. I don’t know that I’ve sufficiently expressed the role cucumbers now play in our lives. I believe I’ve now made almost every pickle imaginable from half sour to full, bread and butter, quick, spicy, mustard, kimchi, and sweet. Right now, I’m enjoying some I made with a friend last week; they’ve been in the basement fermenting in a crock since Tuesday. When most people are enjoying a cup of warm coffee first thing in the morning, I’m making my way down our decrepit stairs to the basement to check on (taste) a pickle and a pinch of kraut. This is what happens to you when you hand over the wheel of your ship to mother nature and a few seeds you planted last spring. You just aren’t in control anymore. 
I guess I had a few things to say after all.
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