It's pink. It's fizzy. And it's from the garden.
There's a great recipe for Rhubarb Soda Syrup in this awesome book. Instead of combining it with seltzer water, I combined it with tonic, lime juice and a little Hendricks. yummm.
And just to prove that I'm able to turn little flecks of nothing from a packet into real food (I still can't believe it), here are some gratuitous garden shots.
The SK told me that I couldn't plant potatoes, because then I'm not gardening, I'm farming. Out of respect to our friends who get up at 3:30am for milking every day, I prefer to think of it as farmening.
I can't take credit for these. The old owner of the house planted these. But aren't they pretty? I love how they erupt from those little balls of petals.
This bush bean is a champion. It's three times as big and beautiful as all the other beans I planted at the same time. If there were a bean-olympics, this guy might have a shot. He wouldn't win, because you know some of the competitors use pesticides and miracle-gro, even if they say they don't, but it would be more about the spirit of competition more than winning itself.
Lettuce, kale, spinach.
I had all but given up on these. I planted them from seed (not crowns) and they take several weeks to germinate, so in the meantime, a lot of other, speedier seedlings appeared. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what asparagus seedlings looked like, except that they were grassy, so I was afraid to pull any plant, for fear I would destroy my intended crop. I thought I would plant something else in that spot this year and try again next year, but when I went to clear the weeds, I found these feathery little guys standing around nonchalantly like the shy guys at the bar.
Despite all the digging and weeding, it's the plants that do most of the work. I'm just the cheerleader. I can get the crowd pumped up, but it's the life in the seed that actually plays the game. It may be stretching it a bit to tell you that my tomatoes were looking a little angsty today, but it's true that you can't do all the growing for them. As with many things, you have to let go and trust that the green things know what they're doing.
Which, really, is pretty great, because I'm just kind of winging it.