Sunday, September 1, 2013
Harvesting a meal: A 'Before I Go' goal achieved
In a trug and a bag, I grew myself a meal.* With the potatoes I followed the old 'add more dirt when the greenery appears' method until the back was full and three or four plants shot out over the rim. The peas I planted in incredibly neat rows and trained over stakes so they wouldn't damage their stems. And then the shoots appeared, grabbing at the bird netting and each other and chaos reigned. And somehow the flowers turned into tasty, flat pods that I was tempted to harvest there and then for munching, but I resisted and they fattened and fattened.
Digging around in the bag of soil, I found only a handful of potatoes. Three perfect sized ones that I had spied through the spy hole in the side of the bag and five or six progressively smaller ones that may or may not have grown any more given the plant was dying away. I was told this was the sign the potatoes are ready for harvesting, but please correct me if I am wrong so I can get it right next time and increase my yield).
The peas, oh the peas, are still growing strong. I picked a bowful and have left the rest for another day, another meal.
I shelled the peas; I boiled the potatoes; I snipped at the parsley growing wild down the side of the house and the last few chives still standing after the last crop. I made myself a meal from seed to bowl.**
* Those Vaseline edges there are not an arty effect. That's the toddler effect, the grubby fingers reaching for the lens when I turn around to do something else.
** Okay, I may have added a dollop of natural yoghurt and a squish of lemon juice to the bowl after the first few forks full. But I stand by my achievement.