I’ve mentioned I am not a patient person. I’d like everything to happen right now. It’s no different with my garden. I plant seeds and want them to instantly pop up their little green heads. Then, after I’ve waited and waited for them to grow, I want them to produce vegetables at the speed of light. This waiting thing is driving me crazy.
The green beans, garden peas, and sugar snaps have been producing for quite a while now. The lettuces and spinach can always be counted on to feed us quickly. Even the zucchini are doing their jobs and doing it so well I’m giving zucchini away. But my pickling cucumbers, tomatoes, and even the bell peppers are starting to drive me crazy!
There are some tiny little peppers here and there, although I admit I’ve gotten some banana peppers and even one jalapeño that was huge. But, although my tomatoes have tons of fruit, they’re not ready yet. And I’m getting a couple of pickle-size cucumbers a day. There are a million flowers on the vines but they need to all turn into perfect little pickle cucumbers. Now.
I find myself sitting on the ground talking to the plants. “C’mon. You need to work harder. Other plants are making you look like slackers!” I hear the seconds ticking by as the darned plants still aren’t popping out instant vegetables. Why can’t my vegetable garden be like those nature shows on TV? I want a time-lapse garden. Everything should go from seed to kitchen in the time between commercials.
It wouldn’t surprise me if Godot showed up before the vegetables were ready.
Of course I tell myself that the garden is good for me. It helps me learn patience. That’s not true. Every year around this time I find myself cursing how slow nature moves. I want to have fresh vegetables on the dinner table. I want to get to the harvesting, canning, drying, and freezing part of having a garden.
But I know me. When I’m knee deep in all the vegetables that seemed as if they’d never actually be ready I’ll start thinking that next year I’m just going to buy everything from a farmers market. Then, as I’m actually doing the canning, dehydrating, and freezing I’m going to decide that it’s all too much work for an old lady. I’ll start picturing my garden gone and thick, green grass I can stretch out on in its place.
By September I’ll be resolute. No garden next year. I’m done. If God had wanted me to grow my own food He wouldn’t have created grocery stores. Buying vegetables at the store helps the economy and keeps people working. It’s a good thing. And how bad can GMO produce really be for us? Yep. The garden is going, I’ll tell myself.
And, about February I’ll start ordering seeds and by March I’ll be cursing Michigan weather because I can’t start tilling and planting in the frozen ground. In the early part of April I’ll want to set fire to the garden to warm the soil so the early crops can go in the ground. And by May I’ll wonder why I ever thought I didn’t want a garden.
So the waiting for vegetables will begin again. Like the tides and the cycles of the moon it’s inevitable.