The weather has been terrible, dear reader, I’ve also had to removed large squashes affected by blossom end rot, so you can imagine my mood. So, here I am, talking to you, dear reader, not to vent, just to release tension by typing. I’m not giving in to anything, I’m getting more bone-meal and I’ll be patient. In a way I’m between both my first years of gardening. The first a hellish test for even the most experienced gardener, the second the perfect conditions to flourish in. Still, you can only do so much. Let’s be positive, even if it’s just assumed at least it’s better than brooding. Get your dirty hoodie on, dear reader, let’s go kill some caterpillars and smell the roses. It’s fine, in their next life they stay away from my Brussels sprouts.
Oh, I have something pleasant to relate. Pretentious way of saying I have a story? Well, we are the words we type in the mind’s eye of the reader, dear reader, always think kindly of Jack. I’ve had numerous people praising my front garden, every one that passes stops to admire it. I did do a lot of the work for the garden competition, but I also like looking at it. I won’t win, there are people with large, professionally maintained gardens. But, as arrogant as this will sound, they lack soul. There are flowers placed, no doubt to the best of their appearance, but I love the hodgepodge of colour in our small patch. The flowers, some bought, some saved, even a few that returned thanks to self-seeding. There are flowers that were just tossed away, some rudely pulled from pots for sheer pigheaded cruelty. Does the effort resonate? I think so, so many people, stranger and friends alike, have stopped by to admire it. It’s a wonderful thing to see what a bit of life and colour can do.
My freezing roasted beets resulted in blackened cubes, a lesson learned. Apparently boiling and freezing is fine, but I thought I’d just cook them fresh. They’re so delicious, sweet with just a hint of earthiness. The beef was cooked in a mix of herbs, I freeze the juices to use in gravy later. It’s always just myself I’m cooking for so things like that really help keep it all varied. I love taking a little from the garden here and there and using it to make my usual meals a little more flavoursome. Sadly with the surgery looming I can’t plant too much as I might not be here to tend the new growth. Next year I might plant a second batch of beetroot. Still, I have quite a few still growing. I sauteed these are boiling, next time I might make a pasta sauce out of them.
I wonder how many words have been typed here, how many times these recipes and posts have been read. I don’t often hear from people, occasionally I’ll get a pingback or a comment outside of the usual readers, it’s interesting to see what people think of it all. Everything here is just me, I wish I could make it more exciting or more mainstream, but I’m just not able nor am I going to. This is me, in all my greatness. Kidding. I’m grateful that there are people out there reading these words, looking at these photos. In sharing their worth multiplies. So, dearest reader, thank you. I’ll type at you again soon.