Open Letter

Dear Drunk Guy who Raided the Community Vegetable Garden:

You may be hungry. You may have really needed those veggies. I'm totally going to give you that. My purpose in writing you this letter, dear sir, is not to bring you to task for stealing our vegetables, even though we all know stealing is bad and that's precisely what you did. Even though we all saw you bring your daughter along that one time whilst you foraged amongst the greenery. What was that about? Getting her started early on a life of crime? Showing her the ropes, the best places to hide when the cops show up? I just don't know.

This community is relatively small; we're all kind of packed in here like sardines. One benefit (and sometimes, let's be honest, one drawback) is that nothing goes on around here unnoticed. SOMEBODY is always watching. I could totally name names, but you know who you are. This ever-vigilance means that you, Mr. Drunk, totally got busted.

This past summer, some of the more active (activist?) members of our community decided to coordinate a community garden. My kids and I decided that we wanted to participate, so we paid our fee and laid claim to a 4x6 plot of land. I haven't had anything remotely resembling a garden since I was a Brownie Scout (and trust me, that didn't resemble a garden either), so I was the Village Idiot when it came to gardening technique. Luckily, the more soil savvy participants held my hand, gave me advice, and cheered me on all summer long. Certain of those Soil Savvies also watered for me when I'd forget. Or turn my water off when I'd forget. Thanks, guys. Count that as your Home Teaching. Oh wait, you did.

Anyway, each child got to choose something to grow -- Zach chose spaghetti squash, Abby chose cherry tomatoes, and Spencer chose watermelon. Rachel chose strawberries, but we couldn't find any so she settled for banana peppers, because they're close enough. We also planted another variety of pepper that started out looking a lot like eggplant and ended up looking . . . a lot like eggplant.

If I were not me, I'd have pictures of the first few days, when everything was weeded and pretty and organized. Instead, I have these.

We started harvesting cherry tomatoes after my co-clerk (miss you!) Tom suggested I try a Miracle Gro shower. Behold the bounty!!

We also got 2 spaghetti squash, 7 or 8 baby melons, 3 banana peppers, and one "eggplant" pepper. One night for dinner we ate from the garden almost exclusively -- we were totally living off the land!! Of course, if I do the math, those were some expensive vegetables, once you add in the cost for the plot, the soaker hose, the timer, the Miracle Gro, the spade, the plants themselves . . . you get the idea. And this, Mr. Drunk, brings me to my point. We only ended up eating part of our crop. You got the rest. I hope you enjoyed it.

Just so you know, we are going to plant again next year, though we'll request a spot a little further away from the Crazy Jungle plot (just kidding Phil and Tiff!) and I'm going to work harder to find those strawberries for Rachel. If you have any requests for veggies that you're particularly fond of, I'm happy to consider adding them to our repertoire. However, could you maybe weed every so often, just as a courtesy? I'd appreciate it. Think of it as your contribution to the cause.

In any case, I'm under no delusions that I could actually feed this family (or you) consistently or adequately from what I grow. After all, this year we had exactly one completely homegrown meal. We just like the idea of our 0.0006 acre garden, we like looking at our growing plants and feeling all in touch with our Farmer Selves. We're not going to accidentally start eating mostly vegetables, being all healthy and food smart. Unless cherry tomatoes suddenly start tasting like bacon.

Sincerely,

The Lady with the Best Cherry Tomatoes, At Least the Ones I Got Were, How Did You Like the Ones You Got?