Showing posts with label cucumbers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cucumbers. Show all posts

Thursday, July 26, 2018

In Search of the Not-So-Wild Onion

Traveling, sheepdog trialing and training are not conducive to gardening.

The garden that I lovingly planted, weeded and tended in May is now lush with weeds.

But I am an optimist.

Surely my veggie plants would survive the chaos.

And, so tonight I went in search of the onions.


If I could find one, I reasoned, I could make out the row and follow it through the weeds.

With a little effort, a few mosquito bites and some thistle pricks, I found and rescued the sweet onions.


They will pair  nicely with the zucchini and cucumbers that seem to thrive on neglect, and go from blossom to ginormous overnight.

One person can only eat so many cucumbers and zucchini, so I've cut a deal with the chickens. I get the tender produce--and anything over 6 inches is theirs for the slurping.


It works for now, but I see them eyeing the tomatoes.

The tomatoes, peppers, potatoes and eggplant are for another night.

Reclaiming the wild garden takes time.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

The Zucchini Solution

Mama Hen and her three chicks inspect a tomato, their first of the season.


Because it is summertime, and I have a garden and a flock of chickens, I am a picky produce eater.

When I find three zucchinis that grew a foot overnight, I don't make them into bread or mix them with cheese and bread crumbs. I simply break them in two and toss them over the fence to the chickens who cluck in delight.

Is that cucumber past its prime? Over the fence to the chicken yard it goes.

Tomato have a spot on it? The mama hen and chicks will love it.

In my Before Chicken years I felt compelled to use or give away everything I grew in the garden. The 2-ft. long zucchinis and bushels of tomatoes that I had no time to process took away the joy of gardening and eating fresh produce.

But now that I have chickens, I take joy in tossing the excess and damaged produce over the fence and watching them gobble it up. And, I can savor the six-inch tender zucchini, the perfectly ripe tomato, the crunchy, snack-sized cucumber.