life: it's snowing!

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

 

the garden: tomatoes of late

The tomatoes I've been picking lately -- since the heat mercifully disappeared -- are so darn pretty. They're uniform in shape, size, and color. I feel like I should call Bonnie Plants and invite them over for a photo shoot -- that's how pretty my tomatoes are. It wasn't that way all summer. I picked a TON of tomatoes this summer, even during the hottest weeks, but they weren't consistently good-looking. I'm thinking the extreme heat stressed my tomato plants and made them produce smaller fruit that was misshapen at times.

That said, I enjoyed my misshapen tomatoes, and I enjoy them now. They just look better lately.

<3

So here we are, in late September, and which of my summer crops are still growing? I have one eggplant growing on my plant. I've picked four so far, so that'll give me five for the year, which is about what you can expect from one plant. And the tomatoes and peppers are still going strong. I'm really getting my money out of those plants.

things to do: maryland berry picking

It was 105 degrees Saturday, which would've been the perfect day to lock ourselves up inside the house and eat ice cream and while watching Netflix on the couch all day. Alas, we did not do that. Tony had planned to take me berry picking for my birthday, which just happened to fall during the heat wave, and not even a little sweat (OK, a lot of sweat) was going to get in the way. 

First stop: Butler's Orchard in Germantown, which is about 45 minutes from D.C. We got there just before the 8:30 opening to avoid the worst of the heat. Tony and I drove into the farm and parked, and a tractor shuttled us to the pick-your-own blueberry fields with all of the other pickers. 

Blueberries appear to be the big draw at Butler's, and the fields were teeming with pick-your-own laborers. The farm ran like a well-oiled machine, workers directed us to the tractor shuttle, directed us to the rows with the best picking, assigned us blueberry bushes from which to pick. I felt kind of like I belonged in a John Steinbeck novel.

As you may recall, I have made enemies with local birds after they ate my strawberries. I asked one of the workers how they keep birds away from their berries, and he told me they installed squawk boxes, which make loud noises the birds don't like. Seems like the perfect idea for a large-scale farm, but installing a squawk box would not be very neighborly of me, as we live so close to our neighbors.

Anyway, we then drove ourselves through the farm to the less-popular blackberry bushes, which we had pretty much to ourselves. About 20 seconds after I had popped a blackberry into my mouth, Tony said: "Um, don't eat any of these until we wash them." I looked over, and he was pulling the remnants of a bug out of his mouth, having just eaten an overripe berry covered in bugs. So that was gross. But he lived.

Also fun: pick-your-own flower fields:

Tony packed us a picnic lunch, which we ate in the car, as it was, you know, 105 degrees. And we then headed over to Homestead Farm a few miles away in Poolesville, where we picked our own peaches.

The house I grew up in had a peach tree in the backyard, so this farm brought back some memories. We had a lab, Pepper, and peach season was the best time of year for her: a steady stream of peaches, or "balls," would fall off the tree for her to play with. We said she lived so long because of all the peaches she ate in her life.

I'm pretty sure Tony chose to take me to this particular peach farm because they let you pet their farm animals: goats, chickens, sheep, cows. And this baby pygmy goat, which might be the cutest farm creature of all time.

We paid $2.49 a pound for the berries and $1.79 a pound for the peaches, but it was more about the experience than the cost. And I think we'll be having more pick-your-own produce adventures, especially in the fall when apples and pumpkins are ready!

Some of the blueberries and blackberries went into freezer jam that I made Sunday. And the rest of the berries and peaches are in the freezer, waiting to be turned into pies.

life: picnic at lincoln park

I mentioned last week that I have a bounty of lettuce in my garden right now. Tony and I put some of it to use Saturday afternoon. We made big salads, grabbed a blanket, and headed down the street to Lincoln Park for a picnic. I always say that May in D.C. has the perfect weather, and that perfect weather carried over to early June.

Lincoln Park was the site of a hospital during the Civil War. After the war, the hospital was torn down, and the park was selected to be the site for a monument to President Lincoln. The statue was purchased by freed slaves and put up in 1876, and it always makes me think that the Civil War really wasn't that long ago. Today, Lincoln Park is a nice community gathering spot, full of dogs and their owners, children on the playground, and young people laying in the sun.

I keep an old blanket in the trunk of our car for just the occasion. It's dedicated to outdoor use, like picnics and fireworks, so I don't worry about it getting a little dirty, and it never comes into the house.

Tony caught a nap while I caught up with People magazine and painted my nails a fun purple. Here we are, post-nap:

P.S. I'm loving this Southwestern t-shirt, which I got at Target for $14.99. It goes perfectly with some of the Indian jewelry I picked up when we lived in Arizona.