Columbus Day weekend was a series of beautiful days. It was difficult to do anything but enjoy them. I attempted to work in my garden but my granddaughter, Violet, didn’t feel well. I made her a nest of hay in the greenhouse. She slept most of the afternoon and woke feeling fine. She looked so cozy and happy. It was at least 80 degrees in there, but with the doors open to the steady breeze it was a perfect napping site.
There is much to be done to prepare for the coming cold, but somehow it’s too nice to care.
I have a tremendous amount of radishes. They are not my absolute favorite but I try not to waste food. The other night I decided to cook them. I quartered several and threw them into a chicken stir-fry. I was pleasantly surprised with the results.
They were still a tiny bit crunchy but much milder than raw. They were hard to distinguish from turnips or kohlrabi.
I never used to like big marigolds. Recently I have been using the Cracker Jack variety in garden beds. I underplant with a few Heavenly Blue morning glories which thread their way up into the orange and yellow blossoms in a pleasing fashion. Morning glories tend to irritate me. I start them in the greenhouse in early May but it takes most of the summer to get a significant showing. I know that my soil is probably too rich for them. They tend to produce a lot of greenery when that is the case. You heard it here, folks. I’m actually complaining my soil is too good. Honestly, I have some nerve.
Grandpa Otts is one of my favorite morning glories. It is a very deep purple and tends to reseed the following year in places you would least expect. This year I grew a pink variety but mistakenly grew it next to red hummingbird vine. It is a bit clashy. I helped myself to a few seed pods last fall from a hummingbird vine climbing a telephone pole near Water street in Edgartown. Thanks to whomever planted it!
Last Sunday’s New York Times Magazine was the third annual food issue. It had several great articles. One was a Michael Pollan piece entitled the 36-Hour Dinner Party. The group made a big fire, cooked at least a goat and enjoyed each other’s company for four consecutive meals. If you haven’t recycled the paper, the magazine is worth keeping.
I have been baffled by the story coming out of small town Tennessee. It seems a yearly charge of $75 is required for fire insurance. I can’t figure out why municipal taxes do not pay for that service. At any rate a family neglected or forgot to pay and when, sadly, their house caught fire, the local department arrived and watched the house burn to the ground. Glenn Beck supported the fire department, saying, “Why should someone mooch off a neighbor if they do not pay up front?” By the way, the family’s neighbor in Tennessee offered to pay several thousand dollars on the spot for the firemen to do their job, to no avail.
This is one of the most upsetting news stories I have read in a while. It speaks of our increasing attitude, “I’ve got mine — too bad for you!”
Wonder if the Tea Partyers think this will be the result once they get their way. Again, I am willing to pay taxes to put out my house fires as well as my neighbors’!