gardening

I had kind of an involved, downer of a post for tonight, about the lengths we’ll go to as a nation to avoid sacrifice or discomfort. There is virtue to be found in a some self-sacrifice, a little pain, and I may yet write that post — but as a light-hearted lead-in perhaps, tonight I share these:

There is a chance tonight (however slight) for frost, and a chance tomorrow (however slight) that I may do some fall cleaning around the yard, deck and shed. So I went out to the pepper pots tonight and plucked countless ripe (pictured) and ripening chiles.

Smoky yellow habaneros, plump green jalapenos, cayennes like lean red flames and serranos like green firecrackers, some turning red. Beautiful aren’t they?

I’ve done a little digging online to find a way, better than freezing and short of canning, to preserve them more or less intact. I’ve seen some interesting ideas involving vinegar and olive oil — but if you have suggestions, do share! (I also have a recipe for jalapeno chili vodka that I may have to try.)

The kids were amazed that the jalapenos are the mildest of the bunch — and that the habs are as much as 60 times hotter, chemically speaking. Why grow ’em? The sweet, smoky taste they impart is critical to a good batch of Old Lamplighter.*

See what I mean? Good things come from a little pain and suffering.

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*Old Lamplighter is my best hot chili recipe. Permission to brag: It actually won a chili contest at my old job: took Best Overall and tied for Best Heat. (Of course, there was some controversy because the contest was my idea — but the ballots were cast secretly and verified independently.) I make thick, mild stuff for the little kids — Good Dog Chili-Dog Chili. Bren and Jodi mix ’em to get the temp just right for them …

Done with work for a better than a week. Tomorrow afternoon we head west. Tonight, the mind wanders, unhobbled, grazing freely where it will. Ah!

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Yesterday at the baseball practice, Trevor spotted a tiny sparrow (not one of the fat noisy English guys) hopping through the grass.

“I just saw a walking bird,” he said. “Why do some birds walk?”

“They walk when they look in the grass for food,” I said.

He climbed down from the bleachers and walked toward the grass. I watched older boys take batting practice.

Trevvy came back, looking slightly flush. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I guess some walking birds are walking birds and flying birds!” he said.

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I passed a car on the way home today missing an entire front fender and half the grill. As I passed I noticed the driver with her cell phone in her left hand, tight to her ear, and her right hand gesturing wildly in time with her fast-flapping lips. So: steering with her knees, or not at all? She’s done this at least once before, I suspect …

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The beans and sunflowers I planted late this spring have germinated and are growing nearly as fast as the weeds. That little miracle never gets old for me, any more than animal births. How is it that vegans aren’t bothered by eating sprouts?

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Wow, it feels good to be off. The Cold Spring Pale Ale is kicking in, though. Lil sleepy. See you soon …