SPICY update

For all of you who are suddenly here for the first time because you typed in a lewd search query and instead found this post, I'm sorry - I'm not all that porny.

Though, if you're into growing jalapenos from seed in addition to your fetish porn habit, stick around and, like, try not to touch anything.

For everyone else who's just dying to see what the hell is going on with the jalapeno popper seeds that germinated one hundred years ago and then were promptly forgotten by this blog, feast your SPICY eyes on this:

Oh shit! Those are second sets of leaves!

Yes. I got very excited to see that they didn't die in my kitchen even though they were moved from the sunny windowsill to the less sunny one by the sink when that sunny windowsill went away to make way for my forthcoming bar.

Also, I'm putting in a bar.

Not, like, a "Wet Bar" because that sounds disgusting and also involves piping a sink to this other area of my kitchen where I don't really need a sink, but I'm still calling it a bar because you'll sidle up to it as though it's a bar and sit on bar stools and then you'll drink cocktails atop those stools and that all sounds like bar activity if I've ever heard it.

And then someday we may move our actual bar (which is just a cabinet in our dining room that holds booze and wine and their important accessories) to a high cabinet in the new bar area and maybe add a library ladder to reach it because we're frivolous and silly like that.

I SAID MAYBE. We're not sure yet. All I want right now is for the thing to be done and the new floors to be in because my house is a god damned mess of sheetrock dust and construction crap. And it makes it very hard to start seedlings successfully when your one sunny window is blocked by a plastic screen a la the Wizard of Oz and a ShopVac.

So, you can imagine that I was veryVERY excited to see the jalapeno popper seeds (They're called NuMex Jalamundo if you're being picky and annoying) which I sowed in the actual outside garden rather than in sure-to-perish pots indoors actually germinated and appear to want to live.

WE WANT TO LIVE. Sort of. It's too soon to tell, really.

I was sure, for whatever ignorant reason, that one couldn't direct sow pepper seeds and expect them to live, even in our super mild Norcal climate, but I consulted with the GardenGirl at Sunset and she said that you can. Here. In NorCal.

So, I did and they are and this is getting a bit obscure.

Anyway, in addition to me germinating jalapeno seeds all over the muther effing place, the SPICY winner, Ms Downhourgunter, is also germinating seeds and she paired up with another blogger, Ms Chocolatetamale, and allegedly their won seeds are germinating somewhere in a garden and somewhere in a pot and there might be photos to prove this but I haven't seen any.

Ladies - if you want to send me the link to your Flickr pool for this (and even invite me to it because you're not bitches, right?) we could show off our pepper seeds to the world [that reads this blog] as a team or something. It could be cool! Do it now.

And because I can't just leave a post at The Kitchen's a Mess, The Peppers Have Germinated and We're Going To Drink Professionally In Our House Soon - look at the fun things in my backyard that aren't jalapenos:

#1 Strawberry

Awesome neighbors tore down the heinous sumac trees that were behind that lovely plum tree and replaced them with a [still too small to see] orange tree. We're VERY happy about this.

We're coming home!

Nasturtium growing from my neighbor's yard to mine - over the fence.

Yeah. It's good times now that the garden's back in. Crazy good times.

So like I was saying: vegetable garden & chile peppers

My whole goal with Saturday was to do, you know, everything yard-wise.

Procure plants, test and amend the soil, fix the irrigation, set up the stakes and cages, plant everything and gather Bubba for our yearly commandment for everything to GROW.

So, clearly, I procured. I was nearly flattened in the process, but I procured. Four tomato plants and one pepper, to be exact. And, hey, no gaping wounds! Hooray! No small victory there!

But then, still glowing with my Master Gardener's market + nursery finds victory, I arrived home to stare my Real Work in the face.

Ah, soil testing. It is OH so tedious.

And still as high tech as ever.

But I still did it, because obviously. I can't be yarding on you guys about testing your soil if *I'm* not going to do it.

And thank god I've been yarding on you guys about it most aggressively because there were moments where I was all, "You know, it looked so good when I shoveled out the beds and there were so many worms, I bet I don't *REALLY* need to test the soil, what if I just skipped it this year..." but then the fear of a pisspoor year of garden harvest smacked me in the face and I came sadly back to reality.

I must test the soil. No slacking off. And then - TOMATOES WILL HAPPEN.

That's really all I need to motivate me: hundreds of pounds of tomatoes.

Also, the avoidance of public shaming. You know I hate that.

So, I sat out with the test kit and the beds and the soil and the newly not-full-of-bermudagrass yard and tested away, expecting to find that my soil was so nutritious and full of organisms waiting to give life to my vegetable plants that LO I could have skipped soil testing altogether and maybe I won't have to amend at all.

Maybe I will just slam my little ragged book closed on the fabulous results and go off and have myself a midday cocktail while I prepare to plant my seeds!

Wrong.

Good, but not Don't Amend The Soil good.

So, at that point I shelved the midday cocktail idea, went with Bubba for a post-ride taco lunch and then returned to add dried blood and crushed bones to my vegetable beds.

Because I'm an evil mad scientist! Or at least it sounds like I am. Which I like. I like to sound like I could be smart enough to be a scientist even though, obviously no. Thankfully, I can always be described honestly as evil and mad. There's always that.

Once that mess was all over, oh my friends - I planted.

Which is a soul-inflating experience that I look forward to every year. It feels like someone has added water to my shriveled Magic Towel of a soul and POOF it's all big again and ready to absorb whatever that crap was that you spilled on the kitchen floor...wait. Anyway, you see what I'm saying. Planting the spring garden makes me happy deep down.

And my soul says, 'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH'

I also become happy deep down when I update my garden tracker for a new year and share it with you freaks so you can see how the Melons vs Watermelons show down is going. Though that will be later. Right now, everything is a seed, so I'd wager the weights are about the same. You can still gouge some eyeballs if you feel like, though.

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT.

Kidding.

My final MAKE ME SO HAPPY garden moment was when Bubba and I, in our yearly ritual, stood at the head of the garden (usually holding our drinks) and commanded the garden to grow in our own special ways.

Me? I'm a Moses type - I throw my arms in the air and yell, "GROW!" in my boomingest, most part-the-seas-before-me voice, while Bubba is more of an evil monkey in the closet type - he stares menacingly at each bed and shakily points while commanding them to "GROW DAMN YOU!"

It's all very silly and effective.

And, after all that, as though I could actually BE happier, my jalapeno popper chili seeds all germinated.

I'm not going to say they "popped" because that would be too far.

So yay! Maybe they'll grow to some sort of sturdiness level that will allow me to transplant them into the garden without totally mangling them!

Though, we shouldn't get our hopes up.

Thankfully, Downhour Gunter will be getting her seeds and book soon and so maybe she'll have better luck with that whole transplanting process than I.  We'll see.

I can say, however, that this book is actually pretty helpful. In the sense that I've already gleaned two bits of very helpful knowledge for the purposes of growing peppers:

1. Pepper seeds (and any seeds really) don't need sunlight to germinate. So, like, put your seeds in a pot and set them somewhere in whatever kind of light. It totally doesn't matter.
2. Pepper seeds germinate faster if watered infrequently (the entire surface of the soil should be dry) and with WARM water. Freaks!

I did both of these things and had 100% germination rate, so YAY for the book.

OK, I think that takes care of Secondly and Thirdly, so I'll go now. Though you should know that I got a new camera lens that I'm resisting the urge to call The Bomb Diggity SMOOCH SMOOCH I love you! so I may be retaking photos of everything because now I can finally do so from the angles I previously was unable to capture.

Also, please forget I said Bomb Diggity. The rest is OK.

Jeff the Potato

So, you know how you hear a lot of "plant after all chance of frost has passed and when temperatures are consistently in the 70s" when you're sowing vegetable seeds?

Yeah, so that's totally useful information to absorb rather than completely ignore like I did because it was March 30th and don't you try and stop me from planting vegs now because we are well past our last frost date and I'll fight you.

And then it rained for a month.

So, instead of actually having to fight someone (because my idle threats are starting to pay off. Nice.) I just went ahead and learned my lesson the hard way by sowing seeds that didn't germinate because it rained for a month. Have I told you it rained all month? Yes. It rained all month because April was getting tired of being chastised for not producing the May flowers the last few years so GUSH. Which meant my heat loving seeds also didn't germinate. They also, according to my thorough finger-poking research, didn't rot in the soil as I was warned they might, so I guess they must have been either eaten by birds or abducted by aliens.

Which I guess is possible because why do we assume that if aliens made it to earth they'd just automatically abduct human beings? We're really big. What if their spaceships are small and they only have room for tiny things. Tiny things like Mexican Sour Gherkin seeds? You see what I'm saying here. My first sowing of seeds was abducted by tiny aliens in mini spaceships.

Makes total sense.

What also makes sense is that since it's been hovering precariously in the 70s for the last week or so, my second sowing of seeds has begun germinating, the apple, lemon and cherry trees have set fruit (!), the tomatillos are falling madly in love and producing fruit-filled lanterns thanks to some sage advice from my empty-lantern growing friend and my flip-flop tan is back.

And if you don't mark the return of warm weather with the reappearance of a flip-flop tan then you need to right some wrongs in your world is all I'm saying.  Free your toes! They'll thank you for it. Or threaten you with bodily harm if you don't get a fucking pedicure because EW.

So, all told, my garden is ready for summer and finally showing signs to indicate as much. Not that they all broke out their bikinis or flashed me their flip-flop tans, but you know what I mean.

Clockwise from the top: Gravenstein apples, Mexican Sour Gherkins, Purple Podded Pole and Kentucky Wonder beans, artichokes, nasturtium, Black Krim tomato, Burpee Bibb lettuce, cherries, tomatillo (with bun in the oven!), Lollo Rosso lettuce, jalapeno, Pickler cucumber.

You'll notice that there's no mention of watermelon or our Adopted Crop, jelly melons. That is because they apparently need one or more of the following: temps in the 80s, a miracle, fewer aliens looking for their long lost cousins. I'll let you know if they show themselves. OR, worst case, what sprightly and promising seedling replaces them when they refuse to grow altogether.

And now a story about the potatoes. Specifically, why I call them, "Jeff".

See, I worked with a Jeff at my college paper and, on Wednesday mornings, which was our deadline morning to get the paper out, he would roll in practically still wearing his bed.

Typically this would look like a 6'2" man in shorts (despite sub-freezing outdoor temps), an old wrinkly Tshirt, Vans and a filthy hat trapping his hair underneath like an escaped guinea pig.

Well, one day Jeff decided to forgo the hat and expose us all to the wrath and power of his untamed bed head.

To say that it was alarming would be a massive understatement. And his only response to our shocked faces was to say, "Good morning, friends. As you can see, I am no longer restricting my hair."

Much like I am no longer restricting the potatoes by adding more tires. I am just letting them grow as tall and crazy as they want because I can't be stripping the Prius of its wheels just so that I can grow another half foot of potato. Because you know that wouldn't be enough. I'd need a friggen semi's worth of tires to contain this behemoth now, and I'm giving up.

Live free or die, potatoes! AKA - Live an unrestricted life atop your limit of four tires. Enjoy.

And that is what happens when the mercury hits 70 degrees in NorCal.

Also this flip-flop tan happens.

Adopt a Crop 2010 : Finally. Something to stare at.

Wow. It's been a while.

Since I planted all those seeds and was all, "Hey! It's gardening time! Let's watch my seeds grow all fat and happy since the frost date has passed!" and then we all sat around for two months (seriously, since March) wondering what the eff the deal was with the weather/seeds/plants/weather.

OK, so it was probably mostly me obsessing wondering and it was mostly about the weather.

Y'all, it's been a vuuuuuuuuurry cool and rainy spring. To the point where putting on a dress and heels instead of jeans stuffed into albeit hot knee-high boots with a sweater and scarf makes me ultra nervous because I'm sure that as soon as I walk outside and The Weather sees that I'm not battened down for winter, the sky will open and a deluge will soak me in my summer wear. And I can't have my new dress soaked with a June rain.

Rain in June? Really? Snow in the Sierras? Really? Nature - I thought we were friends. What is this BS? I don't know you anymore. You've changed.

Anyway, despite the craptastic weather we've had since I planted the garden back at the end of March (which, I'll admit, is a bit brazen anyway), all plants are now accounted for and actually growing. And we even have some newcomers that were brought in to ride the bench in the event that some of our first-stringers decide to get chewed by mystery bugs.

Because it's obviously the little seeds' choice whether they live or die at the teeth of a mystery seedling devourer, don't you just know. I take no blame for this whatsoever.

And to kick off this garden update right, I'll start with our Adopted Crop, the infamous African Horned Cucumber Jelly Melon.

Yes, people, you chose this monstrosity, so don't get all, "What the fuck is that? I voted for tomatoes." because tomatoes weren't on the list. I plant those automatically.  Nice try, liars!

Good news is, for those of you who did vote for the jelly melon and are man enough to admit it (even if you're a girl, you can be man enough for something. True story.), that late comer has actually germinated. Finally. After I stared so hard at the soil (and resowed the seeds 3 times)(Three)(THREE)(!) that I nearly pooped my pants.

Plop.

The shriek I let out when I came back from Arkansas to find the newly emerged leaves standing proudly (and singularly, only one of 7 seeds germinated) got Bubba running from the garage to see what horrible gooey creature I'd encountered only to find me crouched over (and gently petting) the jelly melon seedling.

He already knows I'm strange, so no worrying that he's going to leave me for a Normal Wife, he gets it.

And then I saw that the previously empty watermelon mound was suddenly inhabited by TWO sprouting watermelon seedlings. TWO. HOLY CRAP. Again, nearly shit myself. This was the third sowing there, too, so I was getting worried that I might have to give up and go find ready-made seedlings at the nursery and give up my dreams of The Giant Watermelon That Looks Like a Snake and The Nerf Football Sized Melon That Looks Like a Weapon of Space War.

The excitement was short lived, however, because when I returned to squeal at the melons a day later, half the jelly melon seedling had been gnawed and the watermelon seedling was leafless. It had a stem, but the two emerging leaves had been eaten and the emerging seedling, still wearing its seed hat, had been demolished.

Current melon seedling status: 
1 half-eaten but stalwart jelly melon seedling
1 stem-only watermelon seedling
1 normal watermelon seedling

This guy was waiting for me at home tonight. He's hot.

This changes day to day, so I'm going to let this status stand because I can't be coming back here every day with updates because it would bore you. Not that I wouldn't do it, but you'd leave me. I know you would.

Though, when I tell you what I'm about to tell you, you might never leave again and you may beg me for daily updates because EXCITEMENT (do whatever you do when you get excited) the first tomatoes have landed.

These are the Black Krims, which are popping loose with an unpredicted amount of wrinkles, much like a newborn Sharpei puppy, but way more delicious (I assume. Your puppies are safe around me. Promise.) and I can only assume they will grow up to be like grown-up Sharpeis but with less attitude. Basically, bigger and less wrinkly versions of their baby selves.

Did that make any sense? You know what I mean.

And not to be outdone, the Better Boys have started setting fruit to, so as not to be outdone by the new glamorous tomato addition.

We win.

The amount of probing around in the tomato bushes that I had to do to confirm that there were tomatoes set on all three plants was *thisclose* to requiring a latex glove. I was determined and ready to use lube if need be. Even though that makes no sense.

Also exciting, because excitement in my life is as easy as seeing a plant do a new thing, are the beans. Which have now begun to latch on and climb their poles just like the little strippers that they are. What? You don't agree? Beans are not strippers to you?

You know they wear strings, right? Because these are both string varieties and who's to say that they're not G-strings? Not you or I, that's who.

Pole dancing strippers, they are.

Thankfully, and I mean SUPER THANKFULLY, I planted two varieties of cucumbers, and despite the stubbornness of these allegedly "easy to grow! Great for kids!" Mexican Sour Gherkins, they are all now growing happily and the pickling one is setting fruit. 

My gardening advice: Always grow cucumbers. They never let you down. And then you can make pickles. Which I really like.

We're going to be dill relish because sweet relish is the devil's work.

Are you dying to know about the two tomatillo plants? Because they're doing really well and not just producing empty lanterns so that I have to come back in a few months, with tears in my keyboard, to report that my beautiful plants were just full of empty husks. 

No, friends, I've been squeezing the husks. Because I'm porny and also because I MUST KNOW what's going on in there. Specifically, whether tomtatillos are happening or not.

And they are. Happening, that is.

There's no doubt that the lettuce is also happening since it's basically been happening all over our lunches and dinners for the last month and then last week I had to pick a whole bag's worth for my Pilates instructor so that it didn't take over my yard while I was gone. 

More gardening advice you don't need: Always plant lettuce. It grows so fast that you never feel like a loser and you know in a few short days whether the seeds were duds and if you need to reseed.

This was our first try. We're good like that.

 Then there's that jalapeno. It's doing fine. Like, it set a few buds and they've opened up and I saw a bee hovering around there, so I'll probably get some jalapenos. But I'll be honest, I'm not impressed. It's still pretty small. However, it's an improvement over last time I grew jalapenos and the friggen thing just totally withered and died for no good reason other than its vicinity to the chard.

Though, if I were living next to that chard forest, I'd probably take my own life, too.

Jalapenos. They are chard-haters, too.

Did you know that my cherries are ripe? And not in a porny way? Because they are. And we're not even trapping them under the netting like last year because we're just going to duke it out with the birds and then go steal bags full from my neighbor's tree because we're thieves like that.

Stealing and fruit pie, it's a natural combination.

I will just say this about the artichokes: WOW. Oh, also - we need to buy more butter.

OK, friends, that's enough gardenblahblahblah for one day, but I hope you're secure in the knowledge that the jelly melons are *hopefully* on their way and that this year's Adopt a Crop won't be a complete failure. And if you're into anal retentive data tracking (and, if not, why? It's wicked fun.), I am keeping track of the harvest again this year and WHOA NELLY are we going to hit that zero barrier fast this year.

Yes, I'm very nerdy. I've just proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Adopt a Crop 2010: The word you're looking for is, 'mace'.

Please enjoy the sombrero shadow. It was very warm and sunny.

So, some of you associated these absurd looking melons with an STD or that spiked ball attached to a big stick by a giant chain that warriors in the olden times used to bludgeon their enemies from Middle Earth, but they are, in fact, just melons.

Though you did give me good ideas for how to dispatch with these melons in the event that I decide they're inedible or just too scary to slice into with the intention of eating (recall the concept of lobbing one across the street at the shirtless shrieking neighbor kids)(who are boys - don't be porny).

Regardless of all that, they've now been planted and so, are beginning a life of luxury in my garden next to their friends, the Georgia Rattlesnake Watermelon who, by some strange turn of events, elicited an even worse reaction when I mentioned it to neighbors and passers-by.

And, yes, I do mention my garden to passers-by because what else do I have to talk about? My sub-60 10K PR? Huh. Not yet I don't. At least not officially. But we'll get to that another day.

ANYWAY.

The African Horned Cucumber Jelly Melon, with its Days to Maturity set at Who The Hell Knows because it's not on the packet, will hopefully emerge sometime between now and October so that we can get to know its ripened fruit in the edible sense. Or at least I can get it acquainted with my yet-neglected juicer who still sits on my sideboard as a juicing virgin because WHOOPSY I haven't gotten around to jamming anything in there yet.

Wow. That wasn't appropriate. Enjoy.

And, not to leave you hanging or anything, but while I was out there sowing these very normal looking not-as-tiny-as-the-packet-would-lead-you-to-believe seeds with the watermelon seeds (which are also normal sized), I planted almost the rest of the garden, too.

Including the tomatoes (!!)

So all told, this weekend was alive with the following gardeningblahblahblah:


Seeds sown:
Purple podded pole beans
Lollo Rosso lettuce
Butterhead bibb lettuce
Mexican Sour Gherkin cucumbers
Pickling cucumbers
Georgia Rattlesnake watermelons
African Horned Cucumber Jelly melons
Nasturtium (lots of kinds)

Seedlings planted:
Better Boy tomatoes (2)(!!)
Sweet basil (2)

Seeds yet to sow:
Cilantro

Seedlings yet to plant:
Toma tomatillo
Black Krim tomato
Jalapeno

Don't believe me?

See. You can tell.

Once I get the lay-about garlic and shelling peas out of bed #3, the Yet To Be whatevered vegs will go in. After a turn with the soil amending, of course.

And then I can really heave a huge sigh of relief and sit back to enjoy the world shifting back into balance because you know I get all biggigity while the garden sits empty. I require growing vegetables! It rights the wrongs of the world!

I get very dramatic at planting time.

Which, thankfully, can be swiftly dealt with by way of beautiful weather (hi, I love you high-70s), bare feet, shorts, freshly cut lilacs (thanks awesome neighbors), our first outside dining experience courtesy of Bubba and his grilling skills, blackberry crisp from last year's frozen bounty and good wine-soaked friends draped about our firepit under a full moon.

Oh yes, the world's wrongs are being righted as we speak.

Adopt a Crop update: I hope I'm not jinxing myself

(Forgive the hot dog fingers here - I had just finished huffing a 3 mile run and I was hot, ok.)

Guess who ate the first three strawberries of the season three mornings ago on her cereal?

Yeah, it was me.

What? Strawberries weren't the Adopt a Crop crop of choice?

Right.

Ok, so I don't have a photo of the cucumber again. And would you like to know why? Because I can't keep my damn camera charged long enough to accommodate the super long ass time it takes me to ultra focus the digital macro feature TO PERFECTION, that is why.

*Sigh*

So, I had a shot all picked out and focused and perfect and then the camera zips shut like an asshole and the screen reads,

"CHARGE BATTERY PACK"

Terrific.

Anyway!

The good news is that the only thing that died on me this time was the camera battery (which thankfully can be brought back to life with some amount of charging) and the Pickling Cucumbers whom I was trying desperately to photograph to perfection are indeed ALIVE.

WOO!

Triumph!

Well, as of this morning at 7:51am anyway.

Now for the coming clean part to which I alluded during my last update. Specifically, I bought some seedlings during my very fun nursery trip to fill in the garden places devastated by bastard seedling munching bugs and the asshole squirrels.

And, I will admit, one of the seedlings I bought was a Pickling Cucumber - DON'T BE MAD AT ME ,OK?! I mean, I know I promised pickled cucumbers from seed and everything but sometimes those seeds are not big and strong enough or haven't had enough soapy baths to keep the bugs away and they get chewed to sad nubs and die. Then the only thing I can do is plant all the other seeds, hope for the best, rejoice in the one seedling that looks like it *might* live and then race off to the nursery for this tiny seedling's big brother. Which I found, organically grown and uhhverything, and planted in the mound where the previous bug devouring occurred.

I hope no one tells him he's planted in a cucumber graveyard.

And while I was there I obviously bought other plants because, come on already. Rows and towers and rows of organically grown vegetable seedlings are very, very hard to resist even when you aren't sure exactly where they'll go. Meaning, you've accounted for every last bit of space in the garden, going to great lengths by even conducting an internet adoption poll to fill in the last open slots, and are pretty sure there's not, like, any room left for anything else AND YET STILL, you buy some more because they're there and pretty and promise things like midget Cantaloupes.

Come on people, that is awesome.

So, a quick run down of the impulse vegetable seedling shopping I did:

1 Minnesota Midget cantaloupe
1 Pickling cucumber
1 Jalapa jalapeno
6 Rainbow chards (because my seeds got chewed)
6 Sweet basils (because my seeds had a 0% germination rate - losers!)

That's not too bad, right?

Anyway, I'll have photos of these soon enough. And, oh yeah, I planted a Ronde de Italia squash, which I had in my head was an Eight ball squash but is, in fact, not at all. Not that it *really* matters because this beast is already cooking right along and has fruits setting already. SCORE. I will be eating these through summer as long as the evil squash bastards of yore don't show up to demolish my plants.

As far as other crop updates go, the radishes are looking sparse but strong. So, I'm putting all my Hoping for Radishes eggs in their tiny baskets.

The beets look fine, but not really any bigger than they did before. Which is fine as long as they're not being devastated and destroyed by munchers.

The lettuce looks good. Slow, but good. I have about two of the wee plants rolling the dice and setting new leaves like grown-ups. The others are all shrimpy and barely lettuce at all. COME ON FOLKS.

The snap peas look awesome. Sometimes I forget to give them credit for their awesomeness since, in addition to actually growing from seed, they're fucking fast and are already half way up their fences. Good work guys - mama loves you.

The tomatoes are looking and feeling suspiciously fat around the blooms. Which, in normal words, means they are acting like they want to set fruit. Freaks! It's barely warm out! Not that I mind. The sooner the better.

The strawberries are obviously kicking ass and the borage I randomly and haphazardly planted around the strawberries is sort of going nuts, which I just realized this morning.

Am I forgetting anything? I can't remember. But it would appear that I'm in the midst of gardening season and that makes me a happy bitch.

Do you like SPICY women? [PRIZE]

A friend of mine has a hysterically poor-mannered husband.

He's known for sharing colorful stories at inappropriate times and in the presence of his and other people's children.

I, of course, find him endlessly amusing and often recycle his stories and comments in my own life and to much the same type of responses. Mostly looks of highly satisfying horror or, in the case of my beloved Bubba, wails of laughter.

God, I love that man.

Case in point, the story of his childhood cleaning lady/housekeeper/maid/whatever they called them back in the late 70s.

The woman was a total kook. She hailed from somewhere in Latin America, but due to his story telling skills and lack of personal interest and therefore knowledge, he has no idea where, exactly. He just says she's from Mexico, but who really knows. We know she spoke Spanish, but that's pretty much it. She just wouldn't say.

Anyway, this gal worked for his parents at the house for a lot of years doing what I imagine full time housekeepers do: clean, cook, whip ill-mannered little boys with broom handles - you know, back then you could do whatever.

The unique thing about this woman was that she was a wild saucy spirit, a characteristic not often associated with hard-working cleaning ladies, and she foisted this wild saucy spirit onto her subjects. Specifically, my friend's husband and his brother.

I don't know all the details, but the two that I *do* know have gotten a lot of mileage in my house and the house he shares with his wife (my good friend) and their three kids.

1. The woman referred to herself as "The Sexy Mexican Maid". (Note: She was not sexy, in the conventional way, and she never told him from where she *actually* hailed.)

2. She used to taunt him and his brother by squeeling, "YOU LIKE SPICEEEEEEEY WOMEN?" when they'd arrive home from school with their friends, pick up the phone to make a call or basically do anything where another party was present so that the embarrassment level would increase significantly. She'd then cackle uncontrollably and go back to vacuuming or whatever.

So, yeah, these two bits of the housekeeper story were told in separate intervals, with the kids nearby and at a very high volume, on numerous occasions and have, as such, worked their ways into regular conversation at our house.

And so now let's grow jalapenos.

What?

That was my smooth segue into the PRIZE portion of this otherwise fully random post about the unspoken comedy in the world of undocumented labor.

See, a friend of mine sent me a link to this fabulous type of jalapenos that are specially bred to be super stuffable. Basically, they're jalapeno popper peppers. Like, you could stuff them with cheese, roll them in breading and fry them and have the best white trash bar treat in all the land.

OBVIOUSLY, I had to have them. Because I am a spicy woman. Do you see the connection now? I knew you would. FYI: This has nothing to do with any sexy Mexican maids.

But, when I was on the site buying these seeds, of course I had to do a little looking around in their shop to support their cause and all and came across their awesome looking book that tells you how to best grow, cook and use the peppers.

Why, yes, I DO think I need that, too.

Especially since this will involve me starting seeds indoors and then moving them out of doors, which is something we all know I suck at.

But there was something else I decided I needed in order to get through this whole growing of SPICY peppers exercise - someone else growing them with me. So that when mine totally croak and fail, I can see whether my friend's seeds have croaked and failed and then not be suicidal.

Or perhaps we both grow so many jalapenos that everyone gets pickled jalapenos or stuffed jalapenos for their birthdays.

Whatever - I need a partner in crime for this, is what I'm saying. Be my pepper friend? Do you like spicy women? IS ANY OF THIS GETTING THROUGH?

The prize though, and how to win it...

GIMME GIMME

Do YOU like SPICY women and/or peppers?
Do YOU want to maybe make some WT appetizers for a late summer BBQ?
Do YOU want to discuss the legal and ethical implications of undocumented labor?

If you screamed YES at your computer for either of the first two questions, you should first look around and make sure no one saw you do that because - douche - and then you should leave a comment to the effect of, "Yes, I'll grow peppers with you, Finny and also I don't care what your POV is on undocumented labor because that story was still funny."

If you had any reaction other than, "Er. No." to the last question, please forget you read this post and just come back another time. I only say that because *I* don't want to talk about undocumented labor, I just want to make fun of it in a juvenile and ignorant way.

And then I want to grow peppers while one of you grows them, too, and while the rest of you stand around going, "These douches are totally going to blow this. I'm glad I choose Team Melons because THAT'S where the rubber meets the garden."

You guys are such judgers. Also, that Team Melons thing doesn't really make sense, so HA!

Alright, I'm losing it. Cast your comments to win the book and a packet of these seeds by 4/1 and I'll announce the winner on 4/2.

Arriba.

Thai spicy [PRIZE UPDATE]

So, you know when you get Thai food and they give you the choice of how spicy you want it?

Like: mild, medium, hot, spicy or Thai spicy...

Well, they do at our favorite Thai place. Also, never order anything "Thai spicy", even if you think you are a bad ass because you most certainly are not a Thai Hot Bad Ass. Just a word to the wise. Unless you like to have the condition known as Firehole. Yikes.

Anyway, I'm adding extra Thai spicy elements to the aforeblogged giveaway thanks to a reader suggestion (Thanks, Barb! Everyone - thank Barb now.)

"Like" me on Facebook and get an extra entry
Tweet, "I'm a spicy lady @finnyknits" and get an extra entry
And the regular old, comment on the post and get an entry

That's three total entries to win the Chile Pepper Book and packet of super awesome future poppers jalapeno seeds. 

Plus, fun thing, I'm now probably offending two cultures with my spicy commentary. Hooray for that.

So, like, get to cyber-stalking me in the name of books and chilies.

Just try not to get the Crazy all over you.

I think I promised you all something about running updates and garden updates, so I'll just get on with it if you don't mind.

Like you'd really mind. I mean, come on, you're HERE aren't you?

Whatever. This is already getting weird.

So - garden updates:

I have one again!

Forgive me for only using pictures from my phone. I'm very lazy these days.

Yes. It is official, I have planted the garden for the year.

And what did I plant without even asking you to Adopt a Crop because I'm just so obsessed with other garden-y things which I will talk about in just one second so quit pressuring me?

From back to front (which sounds wrong and gross, but that's *not* what we're talking about here):
Swedish Peanut Fingerling Potatoes 
Tall Telephone Peas
Solly Beiler Cucumber
Sunset Lettuce
De Pierre Petite Lettuce
Toma Verde Tomatillos
Golden Greek Peppers
Padron Peppers
Numex Jalmundo Peppers (aka Jalapeno Popper Peppers - WT Garden woo!)
Green Giant Tomatoes
Hillbilly Tomatoes
Brandywine Sudduth Pink Tomatoes
Better Boy Tomatoes

Plus, also the alleged Slo-Bolt Cilantro and a mess of Lettuce Leaf Basil, which LOVE.

And if you want to watch this garden as it grows and I take anal retentive photos of every step of its life and then record all of its harvests down to the last ounce and go completely monkey ass bonkers - you can follow me on myFolia, look at the myFolia gadget on the right nav bar, there or read this blog. Also, do not forget about The Finny Farm - it's the home for Crazy.

Because it's Garden Crazy All The Fucking Time Around Here, folks.

Speaking of which...

I think I am a nursery.

Um, so, more than the four plants I have room for.

You guys were warned when I told you I was going to learn to FINALLY GEEZ start tomato transplants from seed and properly harden them off.

You knew it'd come to this.

And, alas, it has.

I have gone 100% over to the dark side of my Crazy.

I realize - not the darkest of the dark sides, but wait.

I knew I'd hit Full Crazy when I bought a laminator, but let me back up.

LET ME.

So, I think the tomatoes were about yay big in their four to five seedling trays when I had a little coming to Jesus moment with Bubba.

Me: Bubbs, I have to admit something.
Bubba: OK.
Me: I think I'm going to have to make proper plant tags for all of my tomato plants.
Bubba: OK.
Me: I think I'm going to have to make proper plant tags for all of my tomato plants and then give them to people in exchange for AIDS LifeCycle donations and then sell them at our neighborhood garage sale and then trade them for other goods and services.
Bubba: OK.
Me: I think I'm going to have to just let my crazy out all over these proper plant tags though. Not just, like, write the names of the plants on a tag with a crayon, but, like, actually design some plant tags and then maybe make a support site and then try to get people to give me their seeds back so I can save them to do this again next year and everything. Like, I'm going to go all the way crazy with this and I just think that you should know.
Bubba: OK.
Me: DOESN'T THIS SOUND FREAKY? AREN'T YOU SCARED OF ME?
Bubba: No. I assumed you'd do this.
Me: *silence*...Really?
Bubba: Yeah. Totally.
Me: Oh yeah? Well. I'M GETTING A LAMINATOR.
Bubba: Yeah. I suspected.
Me: OK. I give up trying to scare you. You're UNSCARABLE.
Bubba: That's not a word.

So, yeah, not sure why I feel like I need to let you guys in on the mundane and boring conversations that go on between the Bubba and I, but basically, he can see the future, I'm crazy and my Crazy leaked out all over the tomato transplant situation to the point where I custom designed plant tags for everything, laminated them, built a support site to gather pictures and tomato seeds and other people's Crazy and holy hell if it's not all the way out of control and so super fun that I'm feeling like an extra big nerd.

NERD ALERT.

And for those who came to pick up their tomatoes last weekend, they got to see my Crazy in person and no one was even scared.

See? That is not the face of a scared person. Brave woman, she!

In fact, they seemed thrilled! Which does not bode well for my future Crazy levels.

Like my mom used to tell us when my brother was acting up around the house, "DON'T ENCOURAGE HIM!"

I think that applies, but now that I'm a grown-up, I don't have anyone to warn me.

Because the bees won't be here for a week [+ Spicy Winner]

Since the bees won't be here until *next week*, I have to focus my wandering anxious attention elsewhere. And since these things probably won't get some QT from good old me for a while, I thought I'd stare at them for a minute before I ignore them for at least a solid month.

Hi wild ass meadow, you're really getting big and wild. And do I see some things blooming that weren't blooming when I looked last? Why yes, I believe there are. Neato. Keep up the good work. See you in, I don't know, May sometime.

Of course I will be looking at this. I have to. It's at the front of my house. But still. I won't be LOOKING like I am now. Specifically, with the camera and rapt attention.

And OH RIGHT! I planted 100 daffodil bulbs on a whim last fall. That was fun. I vaguely remember the hamstring pain that resulted from a morning of digging the holes.

Well, fine job with your blooming, 100 daffodils.

I'll have to remember to plant more daffodils this fall because there really is nothing like a big wad of daffodils stretching across the yard. I really like it. Also, wads of things. Wow. This just got inappropriate. Bet you didn't know I could do that with daffodils.

Saucy.

Wads of daffodils. Really paints a picture. Potentially a gross one.

This is our new street tree that's actually beginning to put on leaves which means that it's not dead and we haven't been warning neighborhood dogs off of it for no reason. Though, the lighting is pretty shitty, so I apologize for that. Much like the previous photo of the tree, it's not the best. That's what happens when you are so focused on not including your neighbor's 18 cars in the frame that you forget to do things like, I don't know, measure for light.

It's 8am. Though it looks like it's midnight. Hooray.

And then for the vegetable garden. Which WILL get some attention even once I have a busy hive of bees cooking alongside because I think you know what a total vegetable garden psycho I am.  I mean, that's the reason I'm getting bees, right - is to ensure maximum pollination of my precious vegetables.

Did I not tell you that? I can't remember. My reporting on the beehive progress has been sporadic, I know. Well, let me clear this up once and for all - I'm getting bees to make sure that every single blossom on every single vegetable and fruit on my property gets 1:1 bee nuzzling attention.

I am a cherry blossom and I need nuzzling. STAT.

Seems reasonable enough, yes?

But, for that to happen, I will have to pinch together every last moment I can find in the next 24-36 hours to prep and plant the vegetable garden before the bees turn up next week.

Which means I have a lot of pre-planting tasks to tackle and then some post-planting tasks that are very important, too.

What are these tasks? Oh, I'm so glad you asked. I really wanted to make a bulleted list. It serves a very important purpose in my soul.

• Go the the Master Gardener's Spring Garden Market and buy some tomatoes and peppers
• Test the soil
• Amend the soil
• Set up the bean teepee
• Fix the sprinkler manifolds where the stupid nubbin broke off after all these years of the sun staring at it
• Check the irrigation
• Sow the seeds
• Plant the plants
• Level the beehive
• Play "Drink the Beer" with Bubba

As you can probably tell, the last bullet is probably the most important. Or at least it will seem that way after a long day of one million yard projects when I'm draped over my patio chair in exhaustion.

So, since I'm planning to spend this weekend doing only garden related things and no time doing computer related things, I moved up the Spicy Contest winner announcement to today.

Aren't I thoughtful? I know. Sometimes miracles happen.

So, for the winner: DownhourGunter!

My friend, your entry came from Twitter, so NICE GOING on that one, since this is the first time I've added that as a way to enter a contest and CONGRATS because now you're going to be able to try to grow jalapeno popper chiles with me while leafing through this gorgeous book from the Chile Pepper Institute.

Doesn't that all sound Super Spicy? Almost Thai Spicy? OK, not that hot. That kind of hot does mean things to buttholes. This is just a super GOOD kind of hot. That makes you happy to be alive instead.

Just trust me, you don't want it Thai Spicy, OK? Why doesn't anyone listen when I tell them that?

Anyway, shoot your name and mailing address to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom and I'll ship you off your fantastic prize.

And then you, too, can get to staring at the pot of soil with nothing growing in it (yet? I hope, yet.) like I am right now.

Something I learned from this book: it can take 2+ weeks for a pepper seed to germinate. Oh. That's not as satisfying as, say, lettuce, which germinates in, like, 15 minutes. Oh well.

And everyone have a good weekend.