sexy garlic and other fruiting fantasies

 

Today, I harvested early Italian garlic bulbs from garlic that I planted in October. I took the bulbs, cut off their yellow stalk, and put them, one at a time, into a black, knee-high nylon with 3 inches of sexy black lace at the top, tied a knot around each bulb, and placed in another until it was full. Then, I hung it in the basement. Is this a sign of middle-aged complacency around matters of sex because I'm using lingerie to store my stinky bulbs? No! If anything, it's an out-with-the-old attitude. Who wears nylons anymore anyways? Give me sandals or funky socks and buckled boots.

I have so many things popping in the garden, (I don't want to give away the surprises), and it drives me crazy that I feel resentment over having to leave for two weeks now of all times. Every day, I find another tomato plant bearing fruit. Every day, I run to see if this or that has bloomed yet. I'm starting to get squash flowers, at long last! But I must sever myself from both my garden and my notion that they are my sprouting children. Maternal instincts for vegetables and flowers be damned! I'm going to swim in the salty sea and not worry that I'm missing my first red tomato or my first zucchini. As long as certain other things bloom before I leave, I will be satisfied (stay tuned...any guesses?).

Besides which, friends who are on the verge of leaving the country will be living here while I'm gone, watering and harvesting and feasting on kale, garlic, a few possible ripe tomatoes, and whatever else. Good to know that friends are enjoying what I can't enjoy myself.