This
garden is deer-proof and nearly groundhog-proof. We have nicknamed the groundhog Dick Nixon
because he’s a sneaky bastard.
Basically, though, the garden is disaster-proof.
I
have seen these neighbors a few times in the last couple of weeks, and the
harvest from their incredible garden is like the gift that keeps on
giving. I have been recently gifted with
tomatoes, cucumbers, and red onions, and now my kitchen smells freshly
magnificent.
I
need a sandwich for work, and I decide to slice up one of the beefier tomatoes
to put between the turkey and cheese. By
the time lunchtime rolls around, I am ravenously hungry. When I unwrap the sandwich, the amazing
tomatoes poke out from the sides, eyeing me from the bread and layers of meat,
and when I take the first bite, I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven. The tomatoes absolutely make the sandwich.
We
only have a short time left before snow starts flying around here, and I’m
already waxing nostalgic over the summer veggies that still grace my counter. I hope I can get in a few more gifts from the
harvest to add to my dwindling collection as I eat everything I’ve been given
and the cooler air pushes in.
Only
ten more months until ripe vegetable season rolls around again. If only Dick Nixon would stay away from the
garden, we might eke out a few more weeks of summertime after all.
