Sure enough, we awoke this morning to flashes of white and pink lightning in the dark 5am sky. They were quiet at first, far to the west over the mesas and volcanoes, but as they rolled eastward toward Albuquerque their thunder grew from grumbles to full crash-bangs overhead. Around 5:30 one blast set off a car alarm on our block. Then, suddenly, the rains came showering in.
Lightning /
Gumbo is an odd dish to make midsummer. Thick, rich, spicy, hot: it left our bellies heavy for hours and warmed us from within. We’d never have gone for that a few weeks or even a few days ago, when all we could stomach in the hundred-degree midday heat was salads and cold sandwiches.
But it doesn’t feel like midsummer anymore. Sure, the fall equinox is a few weeks away still, but on the cusp of September the temperatures are suddenly dropping. There are lightning storms in the forecast this weekend, and with them whole mornings in the sixties and afternoon highs in the seventies. We haven’t seen such mild days for months. It promises welcome relief.
Eaten /
Homemade gumbo: spicy and savory and full of fresh veggies, including garlic and tomatoes and okra from the local CSA, and our own homegrown peppers. Yum.
Cooked /
Back to the peppers! The fresh-cut pumpkins can serve as centerpieces for a while, but these little green guys are about to meet their fate in a big pot of gumbo.
Cut /
Yesterday’s peppers were easy to pinch off with my bare fingers. The first pair of pumpkins, in contrast—which, small as they are, appear to have stopped growing and goldening, with their younger sibling now surpassing them by far—are firmly knotted to their mother plants by thick, woody stems. Time to bring out the big blade.
Picked /
Speaking of peppers, Peter Piper may have picked a peck of pickled ones, but I’ve just plucked three.
Yes, I aspire to be taken seriously as a writer, why do you ask?
Surprised /
A couple weeks ago I noted that my pepper plants were putting out purple flowers. Just kidding! I was surprised (and quite excited) to discover since then that those blossoms weren’t producing peppers after all. Turns out we’ve got eggplants in the garden!
And peppers, too. These plants were gifts from a friend who had planted seeds in pots indoors but didn’t have room to transplant all of them in her own yard once they all began to grow. When she learned I had space she loaded some seedlings into a paper bag for me. I thought all four baby plants were pepper varieties. What a pleasant surprise to find that actually two of the mature plants are turning out peppers and the other two have pint-sized eggplants.
Attacked /
No-o-o... Just when I was excited to see grassy seeds peek through the corn, I discovered aphids coating the interior of the adjacent leaf.
Blast!
...Which is what I did to them: blasted them with the hose until they were washed away and the leaf was rinsed clean. Fingers crossed they don’t reappear. Gross little buggers.
Rescued /
Speaking of fruit that once was lost but now is found and saved, I’d like to give a shout-out to Food Rescue US. As their own website notes,
Food Rescue US is committed to ending American food insecurity by directly transferring fresh, usable food that would have otherwise been thrown away from grocers, restaurants, and other food industry sources to food insecure families throughout the U.S.
You’re just an app away from joining the food rescue movement. The Food Rescue US app seamlessly connects food donors, volunteer food rescuers, and receiving agencies. Whatever role you play in the movement, getting healthy food to hungry people has never been simpler.
I can attest to how easy it is to volunteer, as I’ve been picking up leftover and just-past-sale-date foods from a couple local food service providers twice a week every week all summer. It’s as routine as running other errands now, but does so much more than stock my own fridge: together all the participants on my routes stock food pantries with flavorful, nutritious produce to be enjoyed by those who otherwise couldn’t afford to eat so healthfully. What’s not to love?
Saved /
Our first melon has been devoured and its inedible remains have been added to the compost bin. But we haven’t seen the last of it. Its many seeds are just beginning their journey: I’m saving them to replant next year, naturally.
