Who's to say who's effed and who's not? Clearly, not me.

I should really be posting a tutorial for lip balm right now, I know.

It's just that the whole lip balm situation really revolves around my desire to berate the lip balm recipe havers of the Internet for putting up the most annoyingly vague and useless recipes and I can't very well do effective berating if I, myself, am not posting a useful not-vague recipe myself.

I think you'd agree.

Anyway, while I'm not vague or useless (quiet, you), I am sometimes forgetful. In the sense that I forgot the handwritten recipe I hand wrote for myself as I was mixing up this batch of lip balm (and then remixing it and remelting it and, well, you'll see when I write it up) up in Tahoe and so I can't give you the recipe right now.

Although I *could* give you the rant against the dim hippies who wrote up all the useless and vague lip balm recipes on the Internet right now. Because that part comes real easy. As you know.

So, instead of wrapping my rant around a fabulously NOT-vague or useless recipe for a lip balm you *might* use -- Melons.

More specifically - an update on the Adopt a Crop Team Melons vs Team Cucumbers situation.

Remember how I was all, "Oh Team Melons, you're totally effed" and shit, like back in July?

Who's effed now?

Er...that proclamation may have been premature.

I mean, not that one melon, even one that can grow from this:

I'm adorable.

to this:

I'm obscene.

in one week can break the cucumbers' lead or anything, but when the melons do that meanwhile the cucumbers do this:

Wait? We're cucumber plants? We'd forgotten. We were busy being pathetic losers.

it's safe to say, at least, that Team Melons is not as effed as they seemed to be back in July.

Though, it's true that I've harvested approximately 2 lbs of cucumbers so far and 0 lbs of watermelons, I'm fairly certain that the melon you see plumping up on the vine up there weighs more than 2 lbs and that cucumber plant you see rapidly shitting the bed up there is going to produce about five more minutes' worth of cucumbers before it shrivels up and gives me the finger once and for all.

So any greatness the cucumbers might have enjoyed a month ago might be wiped away in one felled twisting of a watermelon from the vine in a month or so.

OR that watermelon may meet an untimely death at the hands of a nasty creature (this happens sometimes even in the depths of suburbia where we happen to live. We call these happenings "raccoons" and I don't want to talk about it.) and Team Cucumbers could be back firmly holding the lead.

A pathetic 2 lb lead that does not put pickles in the jar, so to speak.

In the sense that it hasn't put any pickles in the jar yet. Because I canned pickles on vacation and they shriveled up into depressing little brown turds in the jar because I *might* have miscalculated our actual elevation and then I *might* have over processed them according to elevation instructions for, like, the Swiss Alps or something.

My pickles came out looking like shits floating in a jar, people, it was sad.

So, yeah, no pickles yet. And only 2 lbs of cucumbers. And 0 lbs of watermelons. And cucumber plants that look about as pathetic as you can imagine while still, somehow, remaining vaguely alive. And one watermelon plant that still hasn't produced a single viable fruit and barely any leaves.

But at least we have the craziest volunteer sunflowers ever.

12 feet tall. Who knew sunflowers could get 12 feet tall? I did not.

This bee got light headed flying to reach it.

The zoom was all the way extended to get this shot.

So, yeah, the drama continues in the garden. Melons staging a comeback, cucumbers quietly dying a tragic crispy brown death, sunflowers towering over the garden like some sort of otherworldly being where I can't prune them to make a stunning bouquet and tomatoes doing what tomatoes always do in the garden.

Go fucking bonkers.

I think if I were to really think hard about who's effed around here, I'd probably say it was me. Or the canner. Because we're both going to have to get really effing busy if we want to keep up.

It's not the worst problem to have. 

Who's effed *NOW*?

Go BOOBS.

Yeah, probably Team Cucumber.

I mean, sure, both plants are still technically in the ground, but only one's still producing viable fruits.

The other is, well, not.

Not.

 In fact, the watermelon's managed - with ONE fruit - to surpass the entire summer's production of cucumbers by nearly a half pound.

Seriously. So far this year - 3.18 lbs of cucumbers and 3.59 lbs of watermelon.

Says a lot, that.

Like, the cucumbers suck this year, mostly. Especially compared to years passed. Last year - 17+ lbs of cucumbers. Year before - 13 lbs. Though, last year I did have 64 lbs of watermelons, so this was a weird wager anyway.

Whatever - you guys were up for it - don't be pusses about it now.

And since there's another watermelon on the vine and, like, a few scraggly depressing looking small ass cucumbers on their vine - we could perhaps have a pathetic mini produce drag race to the end of the season.

Or we could start eHarmony for produce.

The cucumbers keep doing cute shit like this, so I leave them in the ground. Cuteness wins every time with me, you know. But you know what does NOT win with me? Grossness.

You're gross, beans.

Yeah, I pulled the beans. They were getting too spooky and ugly and cobwebby and giant bean-y.

I mean, really, there's a fucking FLY on the dried out bean. Nast.

Not appealing.

Thankfully, when the beans wave the We're Gross flag, it's actually them saying that they're ready to be hauled in and saved for Spring 2012 because, yes friends, another hobby is afoot -- seed saving.

If you're not swooning, I just don't know you anymore.

I've decided that it's dumb for me to keep ordering more seeds every year when I never use the entire packet of the seeds that I buy. And in the rare cases when I do (like in the case of the beans, for instance), having saved a bunch is just a way lot easier than ordering them online.

OK, well, it's not easier, but it's more fun? Economical? Old timey? Uh...a new reason to start another hobby?

Yeah. That's probably it. But still! Cool, right? Yes. I think it's cool. I think seed saving is cool. Because that's the kind of weirdo I've become. I save seeds and I take a day off of work in the middle of the week to go to an heirloom produce and seed event.

Like a total fucking weirdo.

But that's OK, because you guys are used to it. And I bet maybe one of you wants to learn how to save seeds. So, all one of you can hang out here while I try it out in earnest for the first time.

Just to give you a heads up - this year we'll be saving heirloom varieties (because hybrids don't produce reliably from their seeds as the hybridizing process leaves them incapable of reliably reproducing - see you already learned a thing) of green beans (Fortex), tomatoes (Brandywine, Sun Gold cherry) and cucumbers (Solly Beiler).

I'll walk you through the saving process for each, as I learn it. So, you know, there could be errors as I get drunk and maul the garden for good looking shit to save.

First things first though - beans.

The first step in saving beans is to let them grow to maturity on the vine, let them dry right on there like big dangling turds, and then pick them, husk them and store them in a cool dry container.

So far, that's all I've done. As you can plainly see. We'll talk more though as I harvest another tomato for its seeds and then when I figure out how to save cucumber seeds, since I haven't looked into that just yet.

Good weirdo times around here, friends.

Also - Team Cucumber - you're effed.

Adopt a Crop update: Pickle CHiPs Visitor

First of all, please don't try to tell me that you don't get my CHIPS joke here (as lame as it may be), because it's impossible that everyone in the whole wide world (and of every generation thank you) hasn't seen CHiPs from back when Erik Estrada was hotness in his CHP uni.

Just don't even try to tell me that.

However, if you're singing the theme song in your head right now (too) - bonus points!

For what, I don't know, but they're bonus points so just take them and like it.

NOW - on to the Adopt a Crop update which is:

Pickle Chips (are you getting the joke now? No? Geez.)

As in, we have hamburger-ready pickle chips as a result of the lemon cucumber seeds planted in my garden back in March, that sprouted in April, put out new leaves a few days later, germinated with ferocity, set blooms in an All Natural Cage-Free environment, and then set fruit at a rate unequaled in all of gardendom.

So then, last weekend I stood toe-to-toe with my new enormo Cuisinart and set out to make chips of those cucumbers, if it was the last thing I did.

Why yes, that IS me reflected in the stylish chrome facing of the food prep. Whoopsy.

And yes, it was very dramatic.

Of course, the real drama came about three weeks ago when I had some of my first lemon cucumbers and decided, on a whim (those nasty dream-crushing whims) to test out the Supah Secret Slicing Blade that had until earlier this year been hiding away in my cupboard.

And oh was I excited to put this newly discovered piece of kitchen gadgetry to work!

Sadly, it was not to be.

And why not?

Because the Food Tube (why do I love this term?) on my weeny 3 cup food processor bowl was too narrow for the likes of my bulbousy (new word alert!) lemon cucumbers. Oh sadness.

I tried jamming it in there extra hard (whoa), but alas, all my Forcing It skills were no match for the too-small food processor.

And then I think you know exactly what I did. I went to Amazon and hunted down the largest food processor (Cuisinart only though, thank you for playing) I could get my greedy hands on and then purchased a 14-cup monster that could adequately manage the girth of my cucumbers.

WOW THAT'S NAUGHTY.

And when that baby arrived? Oh mutha, did we have a moment.

I *may* have hugged this beast to my bosom. *MAY HAVE!*

You don't see any bosom prints, do you? Well then. Now who feels silly?

Anyway, throughout my whole shortish long run on Saturday morning, all I thought about was making pickle chips, because that's how ridic my life is, and when I was done running (and showered, dressed, fed, etc) I set out to make this dream come true.

To say that this Cuisinart is the perfect tool for a Cucumber Take Down is to put it lightly. This beast made those cucumbers his bitch.

And that, my friends, is what 7 lbs of cucumbers look like as chips.

And quiet?

Holy. Super quiet. Not at all like the freight train I have in my 3 cup processor. I don't get it.

But this isn't a review of the Cuisinart. This is me telling y'all that I have now produced Pickle Chips from what originally was nothing more than a $2.95 packet of seeds. And that I'm ready to ship a jar of pickle chips off to a lucky pickle chip lover.

Hint: It's one of these jars.

And, GOOD NEWS, this year you don't have to wait for them to, like, stew in their own juices for six months or whatever. OH NO. This year I used a magic pickling spice that, hold on to your britches, actually infused these chips with lip puckering dilly-ness in 24 hours.

This was the pickle taste test. PASS.

Oh yes. I've tried them. They are dill-icious.

Oh my god. Spank me for typing that last sentence. I am disappointed in myself.

Anyway, they're good is what I'm trying to say. And you can eat them direct from the jar when you get them and call them Pickle Appetizer like I do when I want to justify eating pickles with a fork from the jar or in a big pile as though they are a proper meal or snack.

That's 4 1/2 total quarts of snacks right there.

Which I believe they are.

Anyway.

If you voted for Lemon cucumbers/Pickle Chips or you like pickle chips (remember, these are dill - not fruity disgusting SWEET pickles which are the devil) or you've read along with this riveting account of crop-ness since spring and feel you're owed something, feel free to leave a comment by 8/16/09 stating your desire for pickles and I'll pick a name via the random name chooser thingee, alert the public as to the winner and send out Erik Pickle CHiPs Estrada for a visit.

Super cool sunglasses and suggestive uniform not included.

Adopt a Crop: #1 Update

Just thought you'd like to know that this was The Big Weekend when the garden got all planted and the elected Pickling Cucumbers made their debut.

Aren't you glad you have some skin in this year's garden so that you don't have to ignore me all spring/summer/fall until the garden undergoes its winter hibernation? I mean, yes, some of you voted for things other than Pickling Cucumbers, but perhaps your resentment will keep you coming back, if only to hope for an untimely death to the cucumbers in time for me to still plant your crop of choice or whatever.

I mean, that'd be a little bit vengeful, but that's how I'd feel and so it's OK to be mean and spiteful here and I'll still love you.

So, back to cucumbers then.

Those three seeds right there got planted twice over (meaning I planted six total seeds over two mounds) and are hopefully off to a prosperous start sucking up water and perhaps shooting off some roots.

I even managed to get the irrigation lines running properly after an exciting gushing event that immediately followed my flipping of the sprinkler switch.

It's always a fun surprise to see what's going to be waiting for me when I emerge from the basement (where the sprinkler control thingee lives) and peer all squinty like out to the back .40 at the veg beds.

I won't lie, it's getting to be a blurrier view every season which may or may not have something to do with The Old to which I recently referred.

This time there was no squinting necessary since I had a nice clear view (and could hear the splashing) of the geyser that was erupting from the sprinkler manifold in the cucumber bed. We were, at once, watering the cucumbers (yay! their first bath!) the newly naked dirt, the garage, our neighbor's back yard, the fence and the dog.

*Sigh* It must be spring and I must have spent the better part of evil winter with my head in my ass. I mean, what was I thinking expecting a plastic sprinkler manifold to last more than two seasons. Peee-shaw.

Oh well, nothing a 40th trip to the hardware store in two days couldn't fix. And I had a chance to buy some more poppy seeds since it appears I'm stock piling for when California falls in the ocean and no other state will plant the damn things.

Either way the cucumbers, along with the cantaloupe, basil, nasturtium, snap peas, sweet peas, marigolds (so ugly, but so helpful), poppies and borage, all went into the beds on Saturday and are all effectively hooked up to the Best Thing Ever otherwise known as the irrigation system.

It is all very good and spring-ish and I was wearing shorts, a wife-beater and my best old flip-flops for the warmest weather we've had to date this year. 77 degrees? YES, PLEASE.

At the end of The Big Weekend planting I turned to my garden, raised my arms, pointed all my fingers at the beds and with my best Master of the Universe voice commanded them:

"OK plants. GROW."

Feel free to do the same thing at your computer screen right now. I won't judge you.

Adopt a Crop update: Pickle visit

Hi.

You're still here, huh? You've managed to sit through 7 months of my bleating about pickling cucumbers and you haven't retreated into the darkness of blogland. Geez, you're hardcore.

But really, we've had a lot of good times, don't you think?

Let's reminisce with a nice bulleted list, shall we? It's how I like to do things.

• Well, first there was the choosing of the Adopt a Crop where I totally thought the butternut squash was going to win but somehow the pickling cucumbers pulled ahead at the last minute and I was PHEW so glad because whoopsy! I'm not sure I had enough room to grow butternut squash. Yeek. That would have been awkward.
  
  
• Then there was the planting of the crop. Oh my yes that was a time. Not a good time, but a time nonetheless. A time when I lost a lot of seedlings to mystery evil bugs and a time when I bailed out of the seed growing business long enough to buy a seedling from the nursery in time to see a new cucumber seedling fighting its way into the garden. My hero.
  
  
• Then there was the not dying. Which, ironically, was one of the most exciting parts of the process because it was the hardest to defeat. I'm not sure why plants' first inclination when reaching my garden is to wilt dramatically and then fake their own deaths, but the cucumbers were no different and there were times when I think they also stunted their own growth to spite me. Yes, I feel that cucumbers are vindictive and vengeful vegetables and who can really blame me? They have spines after all.
  
  
• Then there was the first cucumber on the plant. Oh my, what a moment. When the plants that had previously tried to curl up and die a quiet death while flipping me the bird suddenly perked up and started blooming incredibly prolific amounts of blooms and then also tiny fruits. And they didn't seem so mad anymore about the fact that I'd provided the hunting grounds for the bugs that had annihilated their predecessors. If only we, the human beings, could learn such forgiveness from these fruits. (I such a moon maiden)
  
  
• Then the first cucumber came OFF the plant, which was big because even when they're on the plant, they could still get chewed or decimated in one of a million tragic ways, so getting them off the plant is the key. Because then I can mother hen them in my house and begin to thumb through all the pickle recipes like a stalking psycho.
  
  
• Then there was the naming of Fluffy, which was a momentous occasion because the winner of the naming contest was none other than Decca who was also the nice woman who married Bubba and I, so this was kind of an interesting full-circle-ish kind of event that made me go awwwwwwwww inside and then laugh out loud because of the porno references. What a perfect bizarre family we make, all of us societal rejects.
  
  
• Then there was the first harvest which was sacrificed to a really unfortunate recipe that tasted like, well, a horse's ass. I have not yet had the heart to toss the victims of my first foray into pickling, but the rest of the cucumbers are safe from ever having to meet that end as I've torn out that page of the cookbook so as not to repeat that mistake. Sorry, first crop, you were the guinea pigs in this experiment and you met a distasteful end.
  
  
• And, finally, there were the pickles. Oh the glorious pickles that actually looked like the pickles in my mind. How normal they looked all squashed into their salt and dill and vinegar brine like normal pickles would be. All cozy with their one slice of bell pepper which I wanted to ignore in the recipe but got all what if it does some secret necessary thing that will destroy the pickles if omitted and left in after all. WOW. Really so fun to see something turn out right. Even if I did have to follow the recipe really closely to get these results. And they tasted good which was more surprising to me than it should have been.
  
  

See, what a ride we've had with these pickles. I haven't sung any kumbayah or anything, but I'm sure it could still happen. I drink that much.

So what to do now that the pickle's season is over and the space is about to be freed up for future planting?

Oh - sorry if you didn't realize this was also me telling you that the cucumbers have fizzled (thank you Jeph for that reference, it's really the best way to describe what they do) and are about to be unceremoniously yanked from the garden to make way for something new or maybe nothing at all, I haven't decided yet.

Anyway - I thought it would be good to go back to our roots (OMG I'M HYSTERICAL.) with this little experiment and do a little giveaway. Send some pickles on their aforementioned visit from which they will not return.

Fun, right?

So - if you voted for pickles or voted for one of the other crops (no one will hold it against you) or you've read all the posts or you're just coming upon this giveaway now because you're that kind of blog whore that just goes around entering yourself in random contests to win pickled produce - leave me a comment with your name and I will choose a winner to receive a jar of Finny's Homecanned Pickles.

Oh, you want this, do not lie to yourself.

I'll give you a bit to do this, say until 9/4, and on 9/5 I will shove all your names into a random winner chooser device and announce the winner right here.

And then we'll probably do some handing over of home addresses and things so that I can ship you your pickles and then maybe you'll not file an indictment for malicious food poisoning against me when you get botulism from my canning methods (Don't worry, I've sampled these pickles and they're perfectly safe.) and instead just really enjoy your pickles with a nice hot dog or something.

FUN.

Ok, comment away and I'll be back soon with other garden updates and on 9/5, I'll let you know who's getting a Pickle Visit.

That sounds porny. I love this game.

[UPDATE] In the interest of full disclosure, I feel like I should show you a photo of the pickles that would actually becoming for a visit:

See, the ones at the top of the post are the refrigerator pickle spears (pretty good) that I made, but since they're refrig ones and also we've opened them and eaten some, I can't, in good conscience, send them to you. What with our finger germs and what not. SO - the Pickle Visit pickles will be whole dills, properly canned and sealed without the intervention of my cootie fingers.

I hope this is OK, but if you want to back out of the random choosing, you just let me know.

That's all for general disclosures now.

Adopt a Crop update: Pickles + Fluffy

Oh yeah, you read that right - PICKLES.

Ok, technically, I haven't tried them yet since pickles don't really go with Fiber One and soy milk, but I think I'll try them this weekend and then I can report back on whether this first round tastes like a horses ass or worse.

The floaties here are the powdered mustard. Looks nasty, but they say this is what it's supposed to look like. Specifically, when the bright green cucumbers "turn light brown in color". Which they have. But still.

That looks kinda nasty.

I used Gram's Crock Pickles recipe from the Pickling cookbook I picked (oh my god forgive me I couldn't resist) up in Portland because it didn't call for sterilizing jars or any ingredients I didn't have on hand. Well, technically speaking anyway.


It called for cider vinegar, which I sorta had (I used apple cider vinegar) and quart sized jars, which I sorta had (if you put two pint jars together they make a quart) - but otherwise - totally the same recipe!

Ok, except for the fact that I used 6 cucumbers instead of 3 pounds and left out the sugar (won't the "apple" in apple cider vinegar be enough?) - but I did use all the powdered mustard it called for so who the hell knows what we'll end up with.

Meaning I could be quite ill come Monday. But we'll see!

Anyway, crop update:

The adopted crop is doing quite well. I had enough cucumbers to try my hand at fucking up a pickle recipe on Tuesday (see above) and then enough yesterday to repick the same batch for a future pickling session this weekend when I anticipate I will more closely attend to the details of a different recipe in the book. Yay!

And this big giant super producer of a cucumber plant now has a name: Fluffy.

Yes, thank you Decca for this suggestion. I am taking this in the most lewd and naughty way possible because that is what entertains me. Can't figure out why "Fluffy" is porny? Well, then you're a better and more wholesome person than I. So you know, I'm laughing right now.

Also, this weekend I'll be rescuing Wee Man from the advancing everythings because look at this poor guy:

Call. The. Police.

He's still making wee cucumbers though, which is good. Because at the rate I'm going it may take me all summer to get all the ingredients into my house at the same time so that we can properly follow recipes and have cucumbers that don't taste like a butt.

I predict, anyway. I mean, WHO KNOWS, they could be good, but judging by the color and floaty business in those jars and the fact that I used apple cider vinegar it's more likely that these pickles will be N.A.S.T.Y., but I guess we'll see. Stay tuned for barfing!


One last thing, would it be cheating to use a "Pickling Spices" packet? I may have to resort to that.

Other crop updates:

The tomatoes are getting full. Like, we have a new cluster popping out every day and we're now placing bets on which tomato will ripen first, kinda full.

I, personally, vote for this guy on the right here since he was the one looking yellowish orangeish last time and is still the most un-green of the lot. I predicted we'd have ripening tomatoes in about two to three weeks.

Bubba says, "Two or three weeks? That's bullshit. COME ON ALREADY."

Sometimes it's so clear why we're married.


The volunteer pumpkin, for which I ripped out the encroaching squash, is doing very well. He's sorta hiding what I imagine is some alarming growth by doing his growing beneath and around the basil hedge I'm cultivating.

It is possible that one day I'll go to snip some basil and LO there will be a pumpkin there. Anyway, that's what I'm hoping. What I'm also hoping is that my hand-picking of the nasty squash bugs and their grody little babies is successful at some point so that I can stop interrupting my otherwise gleeful garden time with bug smashing.

It's not that pleasant.


The midget cantaloupe is also being protected from the squash bugs with my twice daily smash-fests. Apparently a few coupling squash porn stars managed to make it through the killing of the plant, and decided to move over to the melon WHICH I DO NOT APPRECIATE. So, I've been out there a-smashin' a few times a day since then.

It takes a lot of time to be this evil while also being gentle with the beeooteeful melon you see here. With any luck he'll grow to full size (single serving size that is - about half the size of a regular cantaloupe) and we'll see more melons.

I would like that a lot. Especially given the amount of murder I've had to commit to keep these plants alive.


Here's a gentlemen with whom you may not yet be acquainted. This is my bell pepper. He is growing very fucking slowly to the point where the ugly marigolds that have grown from seed are starting to smother him. In fact, I had to bribe them to stay out of this shot so that I can macro focus on this little bud for your viewing pleasure.

I have high hopes, but I fear they are misguided.


You will recognize this as the aforementioned scary ass chard forest. It gets denser and more intimidating by the day. Which is why I crown myself Super Chard Killer and bastardizer of a million miscellaneous chard recipes. I fear that if I do not cook the chard I will be swallowed whole by the chard.


This is my big beet. I can say that with some certainty because I only have two beets that made it through the precarious seed stage to actually producing something beet-like and this is the bigger one. Thus the name, Big Beet. I would have eaten him and his Small Beet buddy last night for dinner if it weren't 100 degrees outside which made it ridiculous to even think about firing up the oven.

Soon though, and for the rest of our lives, Big Beet.


This week, what with the heat and all, the beans decided to start climbing. That's really all I have to say about the beans, except that I got all excited to see them growing and decided to throw a few more seeds along the fence.

Because I don't know when to stop.



These are the radishes I pulled this week. Some are perfect, some are retarded. Some are real small. They all went into the same big salad last night and were lost in the load of farm share spinach.

Again, feel free to remark upon my flea-beetle free radish greens. WOO! One bug I haven't inadvertently invited into my garden! Random success!


And I'm spent.

That's all I got for now. Although I do have a few more recipes hanging out that involve strawberries, homegrown cherries and buttermilk. Not all together though. That'd be too much.

Adopt a Crop 2009: Lemon Cucumbers

I have learned a new thing about you folks that my analytics data can't tell me (Hi Australia! I see you!) - y'all like pickles.

A lot.

Enough to vote them into the garden two years in a row. Crazies, I tell you.

That's something, especially given your other choices, which I thought were good ones. Especially the black tomato/Scary Salsa option - I thought that'd get you for sure - and it would have, if it weren't for those pesky kids and their dog, Pickle Chips.

Wait. Did that make any sense?

Anyway, what I'm saying is that your Adopted Crop for 2009 is the mighty and round Lemon Cucumber and the final product we're shooting for, here, is the burger-ready Pickle Chip.

Don't believe me? This chart snagged on 3/2/09 tells the tale:

So, we had fewer votes this year, but that's OK, I think it really means that there wasn't anyone forgoing their lunch hour for surreptitious voting from coworkers' laptops like I'm sorta sure there was last year.

Not that I minded growing pickling cucumbers last year, we had some tasty renditions at the season's end and I'm still reaping the benefits during our White Trash Hot Dog Dinner nights. We also had some not-so-tasty renditions, but I've since burned those recipes at the stake and warned everyone in my household against muttering their name.

Nonono, I am not dramatic at all.

So, I'm much more ready to attempt to take Lemon Cucumbers from seed to jar than I was at the start of last year's season. In the sense that I finally triangulated the totally illusive but always referenced Pickling Spice. Thank you, Bubba, for pulling this off the shelf at Lunardi's while I was hunting down the other illusive yet wildly popular Vietnamese Cinnamon.

REALLY PEOPLE, why do all these recipes insist on calling for shit I can never find? And it's not like I live in a small town with only a little general store and one donkey or something. I live in the friggen' Silicon Valley for godssake! I should be able to find eye of newt at Safeway on a weeknight is how I see it, but no!

Moving on...

I now have pickling spice. And I have decent pickle recipes that can achieve acceptable pickle-y flavors without the use of pickling spice. And I have jars. And I have verified that my food processor came with an attachment that will slice things into chip form. And seeds for the cucumbers on the way. And the frost date has passed.

Which can only mean one thing - I am behind.

Already.

Because I haven't turned any soil or even accepted delivery of all the seeds that will go into this year's garden yet.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

By 3/10/08, I had the garden turned, planted and watering. And I was also wearing shorts and flipflops and, apparently, leading an amazingly charmed life because I can hardly imagine having all that done in a week's time since right now it is raining (this is good), cold (meh) and I'm wearing 4 inch heels (barf).

Not important! I have seeds coming! And I know what I'm planting in the rest of the garden this year and don't you just want to know?!

Of course.

We're going for a more focused garden experience this year. Specifically, I will not be fucking around with bizarre varieties of melon, falling victim to the allure of plentiful (and buggy - gross) squash, taking up space with ill-fated beets and a few measly radishes or tempting fate by reintroducing bastard chard.

No, this year we're going with a Quantity Over Variety approach.

Bed 1: Silver Queen corn
Bed 2: Kentucky Blue Lake Green Beans, Black-seeded Simpson Lettuce (under the beans), Lemon Cucumbers
Beds 3 + 4: 4 Better Boy tomato plants (twice our typical planting - watch out) and sweet basil

I've never grown corn before, so we'll see how this goes. Thankfully, Kristin gave me some sage corn (sounds weird) advice about soil amending and planting strategies, so perhaps I'm off to a more promising start than, say, last year when I set my cucumber seeds out unsupervised to be mercilessly chewed by mystery bugs while I sat at the computer and blabbed about pickling as though I knew a thing about it which I did not.

*Sigh*

I certainly hope not to repeat that incident because I was so mad I had to make up extra mean swears and I do believe some neighbors decided to steer clear of me after that. Their loss! I'm fun!

Anyway, your crop has been chosen and now the fun and swears can begin.

Today on Finnyknits: We learn a thing.

Once upon a time, Bubba gave me a pile of dirt. Remember?

Yeah. Me too.

And let us also remember that I got all eager beaver crazy puppy over it and, before thinking or adequately scouring the internet for information about it or heeding the warning of my knows-a-lot neighbor, I just went shoveling it merrily into my vegetable beds.

Oh.

Because I thought - OH WELL I'LL TEST THE SOIL AND THEN ALL WILL BE RIGHT WITH THE WORLD.

Sort of. Things are sort of right.

Also, things are sort of wrong.

Overall, things are meh.

Right things: The cucumbers and peppers are happy as muther fucking clams.

Happy

muther effing clams

Meh things: The tomatoes and potatoes are not.

Just whatever.

Um, those tomatoes should be a hedge by now. Whoops.

And why do we think that is, class?

Because jackass over here (that's me) took one look at the magically delicious soil test results with their "YOU DON'T NEED TO ADD A DAMN THING TO THE SOIL" readings and went, pffffffffft, we are so done here.

TOO MAGICAL

Except that I did need to add some stuff to the soil.

I mean, I thought about it, but then based on the information in the soil test kit about what pH level the vegetables liked, I just left it all alone.

I should have added some peat moss to the tomato beds to bring down the pH. That was a mistake.

So, as a result, this year's tomato harvest is looking a lot like last year's cucumber harvest - potentially sucky.


So, that thing we learn today: Tomatoes like a pH between 6-6.5 and cucumbers like a pH around 6.5-7. and mucking about with those numbers too much is bad business and results in lackluster plants who can't absorb the nutrients in the soil adequately because things are just not right for them.

PICKY BASTARDS.

No, I kid. I love the bastards very much. We'll make it just right next year.

And, there - don't say you never learned anything from Finny.

Oh! Bonus thing to learn: What does Finny do when the tomatoes are sucking ass but the cucumbers are being all LOOK OVER HERE AT US AREN'T WE CUTE?

Almost too cute to pick. ALMOST I SAID.

We pickle.

Every cucumber that comes out of the garden.

NO ONE IS SAFE.

Is it just me, or do these look like poos in there?

Pickling to fend off feelings of failure. Pickling to soothe the cries of WHAT HAPPENED I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS that I scream at the tomatoes. Pickling because that's also what I do in the summer because LO we never have enough pickles.

Do you guys eat a lot of pickles? Apparently we do. And my family does. They're the first things to disappear from the cupboard every winter and the first thing I'm chomping at the bit to get back in there.

Enough stories about pickles, though, you get it. I have cucumbers. I have made pickles. They are in the cupboard.

Also, the tomatoes and potatoes are in revolt because their soil is too alkaline wahhhhhhhhh. Except for the dirty hippie who was spared the drama in the raised beds by living in its weird spot elsewhere in the yard.

OK, that's as disjointed as I'm willing to be in one post.