Since I photographed Betty, there have been no sightings of her. Perhaps I offended her camera-shy sensibilities? Or maybe cameras really do steal the soul, and she’s been left, a dried-out husk of a spider, because of my persistent clicketing? I’m not sure, but I’m a little sad. (Only a little though.)
Having covered the fauna, onto the flora! (I know, am I the queen of segues or what?)
Our CSA delivered a chard- and kale-free shipment this week! I was actually somewhat disappointed because, much to my surprise, I did quite like kale. (I know, I know; you guys warned me! But it’s intimidating in its hugeness!) It really is like spinach, kind of.
This week features lettuce, a return of turniplets (with far less bug-eaten greens!), Italian zucchini, crookneck squash (which I chose over the pattypan), cucumber, and tomatoes.
While we were chatting, Farmer Gord asked if I made sauces at all with my tomatoes. While I hadn’t yet (we only got 3 in the last shipment, after all), I did have pasta planned for that night, so I told him so. His face brightened up, and he pretty much doubled my tomato haul with some that he deemed “too soft” for the regular baskets. Score!
I did make a chunky primavera for dinner that night (and included some of the zucchini!) which gave me a nice use for the two little hot peppers which had been aimlessly waiting around the kitchen for a meal to join. Very delicious.
This being the 12th week, I realized that I have been through a full quarter, now, of CSA deliveries. I figured that deserved some collage-y remembrance:
It’s a colourful array for sure, and although I see some definite workhorses across the span (beet greens, I’m looking at you), it’s actually a pretty good rotation, I think, and the shipments did get bigger, as promised. (I would have been concerned if they hadn’t though — that’s kind of the way the growing season works, after all.)
I am definitely signing on with a CSA again next year (although The Boy won’t admit it, I think he secretly kind of enjoys being surprised by what and how much we’ll get each week), and while I am still leaning towards trying a different one, I have far fewer compunctions about signing on with Farmer Gord again in another year if next year’s farm doesn’t work out.
…I’m a fickle customer, huh? I suppose I am. I do want to be more involved in my farm, though, so having one that’s more accessible would be a boon.
In other news, The Boy loves me.
What’s that? We’re married, so he had better? Well, yes, there is that, but it’s always nice to be reminded by small gestures, isn’t it? The Boy isn’t really one for flowers or other sappy (but well accepted) tokens of affection, but he does know and love me nonetheless. How do I know this? Here’s my proof:
Although I love chocolate milk, I realize that it’s not the healthiest drink in the world. So, like most treats, I tend to wait until it’s on sale to buy any. I’d mentioned over the weekend to The Boy that I’d like to pick some up, but we’d forgotten while we were out. Later on, doing the groceries, I’d picked up two cartons (my normal allotment) which The Boy (despite my offering him some on Tuesday) apparently never saw.
He surprised me by coming home last night and unloading 4 fresh cartons of chocolate milk, responding to my surprised face with “What? You said you wanted some.” Aww.
Who says romance is dead?