Weigh-in. For the vegetables, obviously.

This is what 22 lbs of red looks like.

Anyone still interested in the garden? Cucumbers? A shit ton of tomatoes? How about the fact that I've harvested more than half my body weight in vegetables from four raised beds so far this year?

Yeah, that'll get you lookin'. Maybe one day I'll get all bold and do a Guess My Weight challenge.

And also, maybe one day I'll put a tomato on my head and let Bubba take shots at it with a pellet gun.

SARCASM.

Women don't share their weights in my world. It's not right. Unless you still weigh 118 pounds like you did your senior year in high school. Then you tell everyone and also go topless with a yellow thong bikini bottom in West Palm Beach.

But nevermind all that, let's talk about the garden.

Sorry, that was the shittiest segue ever.

Cucumbers!

The cucumbers have taken a new approach this year - they're on the pole.

Not in a sexy way, like someone's tucking dollar bills into their Gstring or anything, but they've reached the limits of their caged existence and have taken up with the beans to climb the tepee.

Does this pole make my ass look fat?

Which, theoretically, is fine, except the tepee is starting to list semi-dramatically due to the unevenly dispersed weight of the newcomer cucumbers, so, well, I guess I'll have to deal with that eventually.

I'm not going to make the Leaning Tower joke here because it's just too cliche.

For now though, I just admire their ambition. And their fearless exposure of bulbous portions.

Also on the pole in a non-sexy but still surprising way is the second wave of green beans. I will tell you that this surprised me because I was not aware that these were indeterminate plants. I mean, they're not *really* indeterminate, but they're acting like they are. I guess this would really be considered a "continual harvest", but still, I thought we were done, here.

Nope. More beans on the way.

You can't tell us what to do.

Know what IS indeterminate in my garden though? You can guess. It's the tomatoes. And the fact that they're indeterminate is downright scary.

Because this is just one harvest.
And had my basket been the size of a truck bed, I *might* have been able to pick all the ripe ones.

After I picked 22 lbs for canning a week ago and then another 15 to bring into work today and then and then and then...well, the plants are totally unphased.

If you look at the plants, you'd never guess this even happened.

In fact, I think they're mocking me.

Neh neh nehnehneh. PICK ME.

The artichokes are also mocking me. Apparently they saw me come into the house with a box of artichokes last weekend and got all "Look at me! Look at me!" and decided to put out some new thistles for me.

Thanks. I haven't had enough garlic butter so far this week. I'm sure I really need this temptation right before I'm about to bare my midriff in Hawaii. This could get grody.

You just sit there and think about what you did.

Then there's the corn. It's a sight. And it's downright delicious. We've only picked four ears so far, but that's because we're trying to be patient in picking them until they're perfectly ripe rather than just cracking them off when the mood strikes us. *HINT TO BUBBA*

They're working hard out there, though, and I'm satisfied with my decision to put in corn this year. I was afraid it'd be an awful heartbreaking disaster of the vegetable kind, but it's turned out well enough to be put in the running for a spot in next year's garden. MAYBE. WE'LL SEE.

Don't get too comfy out there, corn.

The cilantro has gone to seed and we now have some coriander out there masquerading as a legitimate plant. I hope this doesn't make it think that I'm forgiving it for bolting so muthereffin fast though because I don't just forgive that easily.

Let it be known that I hold grudges against plants because I'm just that petty.

You'll have to do better than that, suckah.

And just so I don't end this on a totally ridiculous note, the naturtium are bouncing back from their recent, um, hair cut, and giving me blossoms to bring inside again. Which I like. Because that dirty old water with brown basil leaves floating in the vase on my kitchen counter isn't super lovely.

Thanks guys. Appreciate it.