These days, growing things is all the rage. Everyone wants to get in on the green thing by growing some green things. Every magazine I read has some article about growing your own food. I've even seen articles, yes that's plural!, on being an urban chicken farmer. That's sure to please your neighbors. Although, I admit, I kind of want to have my own chickens. Can you imagine going out to get fresh eggs for breakfast?
I've always been an admirer of farming. Farmer Boy, by Laura Ingalls Wilder, was one of my favorites in the Little House series. Going out to the back yard, or field if you live on a farm, to pick corn, tomatoes or peas for dinner seems like a lovely thing to do. Another one of my favorite books, Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes, makes me jealous every time I read it. My mouth waters over recipes full of fruits and veggies harvested from her own land. Francis doesn't just have her own farm, though, she has an olive grove, and presses her own oil. In Italy. Where she lives for part of every year. Oh bliss.
I meanwhile, have to settle for living in southern California. Not such a bad place to be, I guess. And while I may not have an orchard, a field, or even a chicken coop, I do have my own little piece of land. And I have growing things. And I love it.
We planted squash: yellow crookneck and green zucchini. I wonder if the boys will eat squash they grew themselves?
And tomatoes. How I have longed for tomatoes. Although I have tried, I have had no success with tomatoes grown in a pot. 2 factors have conspired against me every season. 1, the tomato never makes it into the pot. Or 2, I am gone for an extended period of time and someone doesn't do the watering. This year I have 4 in the ground already. I'm planting 2 cherry tomatoes tomorrow. I can't wait to make some sauce!