Hawthorn Hill Journal by Richard deRosa
On Forgetfulness, Marbles and the Garlic Crop that Wasn’t…
Two weeks after I would normally plant next year’s garlic crop, I realized I had completely forgotten. I cannot recall ever forgetting such a staple of our routine up here on the hill. I mean, routine is everything. Fortunately, my source was more than happy to supply me with what I needed. Normally, I plant September 15 and harvest July 15. That has been the case for the last 20 years. How to account for such an uncharacteristic oversight. Thus far I am not aware of any early signs of dementia—perhaps that’s the problem. No, I’m pretty confident that my marbles are up to the game.
We have talked about cutting back the last several years and have done so. We have always had two large vegetable gardens. We are now down to just one, which has always been ample enough for our needs. My wife, Sandy, now has her garden, the Lower Garden, where she plants flowers as well as some of the leftover vegetable starts that I find hard to toss into the compost heap. We’ve had a constant stream of beautiful flowers from her garden, especially gladiolas that just seem unable to stop. In fact, the glads that we planted along the Upper Garden fence several years ago just keep on coming back every year. The conventional wisdom has been to dig them up and then replant in the spring. Benign neglect seems to do the trick.
I probably will get a bit antsy next spring around July 15, since I’m programmed to dig up the garlic then. I’ll be a bit older and perhaps will have become a little more patient. I suspect I’ll keep an eye out for any sign of stem decay and will have to force myself to hold back. Never been very good at that.
As far as the Upper Garden goes, the plan is to focus on low maintenance root/storage crops: squash, carrots, potatoes, garlic, etc. Of course, some lettuce and one of my favorite foods, peas. As a bachelor many years ago I subsisted on a diet of peas, fish cakes and coleslaw. Add a cold piece of apple pie into the mix for desert and I’m in heaven.
Years ago, when crossing the border into the U.S. late at night on the way home from Newfoundland, we stopped at an all-night diner which, at 2 a.m. was packed, for a late-night snack. My friend ordered French fries, his go-to snack, and I ordered coleslaw and apple pie. Now there’s an ideal road to heaven on earth. I like my bagels and apple pie at room temperature, certainly not heated. Ugh! Also, keep cheese and ice cream away from my pie as well. I’m an old man with adolescent tastes who abhors his pie being contaminated by either cheese or ice cream. Love ice cream standing its own ground. Love cheese on a good cracker, which is where it belongs.
I suspect come planting time next year I will have to overcome any urges to plant too many tomatoes, as well as arugula, chard, cilantro and dill. Actually, once you’ve planted dill it takes up permanent residence by reseeding itself every year, like it or not. We got a bit worried when it didn’t show up as early as we’re accustomed, so we threw a bunch of seed around and ended up with dill all over the place. Lesson learned: Be patient, nature is smarter than you are. I started growing arugula a bunch of years ago because our downstate kids see it as an obligatory salad complement—I can easily live without it. Sorry foodies. I obliged this year and, while Sandy used some, most of it from containers on the deck, far too much sat idle in the garden. Unless asked, I was not about to offer any up. Some did, however, find its way into quite a few salads, none of my doing and I am the house salad guy. If you happen to find your way to one of my salads, chances are you’ll savor, depending on my mood, a raisin, blueberry or dried cranberry. No pomegranate seeds in my salads.
It has been a hell of a tomato year. They just never stopped coming. I have no idea why we were overrun, while some gardening friends here in town had very spare crops. My college roommate, who lives in Connecticut, with whom I chat every few months, asked about our tomato crop. Turns out they had a banner crop as well. Go figure. A friend asked if we had done anything differently. No. Same process as every year: organic, some compost and a dab of a granulated organic fertilizer. Same approach year after year.
Who knows if forgetfulness will become a staple. I would rather forget about garlic and plant arugula by mistake than forget my name on the way to the bathroom. Looking forward to a robust garlic crop next year.
Dick deRosa’s Hawthorn Hill essays have appeared in “The Freeman’s Journal” since 1998. A collection, “Hawthorn Hill Journal: Selected Essays,” was published in 2012. He is a retired English teacher.
