Next Stop: Farmers' Market!

We have a little vegetable garden in the backyard where we planted corn, bush beans, carrots, parsley, sage, oregano and chives. We've never gardened before because I have this stubborn habit of killing anything that grows (except for my kids-- thankfully I've managed to keep them alive somehow).

So, when eight of our ten corn stalks, three of the ten bean bushes and 5 of our 10 carrot plants all managed to survive into adulthood (forgive me if my garden vocabulary is a bit lacking) I did a happy dance-- honestly, I had fully expected them all to die sad deaths. And when today I noticed a big chunk of carrot peeping through the soil I was beyond excited and had to pull the thing up. But when I saw its poor gnarled body my elation deflated like a sad old balloon. The stupid carrot had some major birth defects. The top of it looked round and healthy, but then these little nubs kinda sprouted off it and curled around only to end in a skinny little shriveled stick. What the...? And when I went inside to wash and peel it...well, let's just say I wish I would have taken a picture of that too. Because after I had peeled off all the nastiness and dirt, the carrot was worth about a single bite or so. I brought it out to my eagerly awaiting family, and to my surprise, they were thrilled with the thing-- like it was some kind of masterpiece! We all took a teeny-tiny bite and passed it around until it was gone. (Which took, oh...about 10 seconds.)

My kids were thrilled. Go figure-- we get this retarded carrot and they act like we're a bunch of Farmer Joes! But their excitement reminded me to enjoy the learning process. Hey, we're new to this gardening stuff! Just because T and her hubby can one day decide to have an entire farm in their backyard (even though neither of them have ever had so much as a tomato plant) and raise enough luscious produce to sell at a local market, doesn't mean that my experience is any less valuable! (At least, that's what I keep telling myself.) Besides, they don't even have any carrots in their garden. Sure they have things like artichokes, asparagus and hops, but carrots are distinctly absent from their little produce utopia. Humph! What kind of garden doesn't even have carrots! (Even if they are the dumbest stupid-head carrots you've ever seen.)

So, here is the moral of the story: buy carrots at the farmers' market if you want fresh, homegrown goodness. Because I'm not sharing my carrots. I only have 5 left and who knows how ugly they might turn out to be. Ugly, mutated dirty carrots. But they're mine. I grew them-- and I'm pretty darn proud of myself.