I am growing a garden. When I was a kid, my Grandpa’s entire backyard was a garden. Corn, strawberries, peas, potatoes, peanuts, and the usual (tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers). I loved pulling up the cluster of peanuts with a little tearing sound as they popped out of the dirt. I loved eating cherry tomatoes warm from the sun. Eating my Grandma’s rhubarb pie. Picking loquats fresh from the tree and eating them and spitting the pits at my sister.
He grew Thomson Seedless Green grapes, red flame, and purply blue concord grapes. I uses to stand at the vine dodging spiderwebs and pick the concord grapes and pop the grape out of it’s skin. The grape was so sweet and the skin so sour. I’d eat both and crunch up the seeds.
For years, I’ve wanted to grow a garden so my kids could experience the same things, but since 2006, I’ve rented. Well, I’m renting now, too, but this place happened to have a raised garden bed, so we carefully considered what to grow. We started with tomatoes, peas, cucumbers, summer squash. We recently added winter squash and bell pepper.