Last night, I harvested what I could from my backyard, um, garden. In the springtime, I’d had grandiose visions of making salsa from peppers and tomatoes grown in my very own dirt, by my very own hands.
Unfortunately, as you can see in the picture below, the results were, well, somewhat underwhelming. Actually, underwhelming might not be a strong enough word. That sad haul of veggie-fruits are only just underwhelming in the same way South American soccer fans are only just disappointed when their preferred team loses and rioting ensues.
I’m thinking maybe the salsa isn’t going to work out. If I made it solely with the stuff I brought from the yard, it’d be, well, perhaps a little, er, aggressive for the average palate. Sure, I’m a firm believer that salsa should be hot enough clear your sinuses, but this stuff would put hair and your chest and straight ruin your mouth for days.
Truth be told, throughout the course course of my life, I’ve largely demonstrated having about as green a thumb as Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor*. Nonetheless, in the face of such monumental failure, I did the one thing most red-blooded American men would consider imperative: I immediately began planning changes to the gardening plan in expectation of a bumper crop for next year.
Because, you know, winning!
It did get me to thinking though. I mean, really, who am I kidding? I live in your average modern-day suburb. Is there any real hope that I’ll ever manage to produce a vegetable worth eating? This isn’t actual agriculture or anything. It’s not like I can let the north 40 lay fallow next year. Heck, I can’t even till up the side yard. So there’s our weekend debate for this week…
Suburban Crops: Waste of time or not?
Admittedly, the idea of pulling your own veggies, etc, out of the back yard is attractive. Hell, it must be if even I’m on board with it. But are those of us living in the unforgiving clay of planned communities just kidding ourselves? Would be be better off leaving the growing of thing to Farmer Bob, and his lifetime of experience and heavy machine. I say no, but no one every accused me of being the most sensible person in the room.
I might be able to offer you any tomatoes this year, but at least I can give you a silly poll:
*In my defense, we didn’t really commit to it this year. We bought clearance plants and stuck them in Topsy-Turvys right next to my deck where the sun shines only when it feels like it. And they weren’t even the right kind of Topsy thing. Turns out growing tomatoes in the pepper one doesn’t work out…so good.