28 July 2012
Living Lettuce, Dead Squash
Scott, living it up on the 24th of July. I am so sad the park was blown out behind him. Alex's family did a performance at a BBQ at a city park in the mouth of Zion National Park. Still, I guess if I have to choose between exposing for a cute baby and exposing for a rock, I have to pick the baby. Should have done both and photoshopped it.
I got this in my bountiful basket this morning. I have had it before and was amazed how long it lasted in the fridge. Today, someone told me an awesome tip about it. She fed her last one to her family, then planted the roots ...
And it grew more lettuce. I am totally going to do that! Right after I completely soak my entire garden bed in DDT and every other harmful pesticide imaginable to kill the most evil and villainous of all creatures (squash bugs) that have infested my poor little bed and gruesomely murdered several of my plants.
These are my tomatoes. I grew them. I GREW them. I never grow tomatoes, and I have grown these three, big (for me) ones, plus a couple more midsized ones, plus a bowl or two of cherry tomatoes. Never mind that it cost me around $700 per lb so far. (We put the block raised bed in this year + compost + bug sprays etc.) I suppose if I view it as a learning experience, it's not too bad per credit hour.
I will not talk about my butternut squash, zucchini, or other squash bug victims. The pain is still too close and fresh. For others who have experienced this pain, I think we need a support group or something, that we may mourn our losses and share our grief together.
These are the newest two members of our family. Pinky (short for Pinkerbell), is the big, less shy one. "Hello Pinky!" See her friendly little head popping out of the water? Violet is the one who likes to hide from all humans beneath her friend Pinky, as you may have noticed. So far Alex has been a good boy and changed their water and fed them all by himself. I have not had to lift a finger to help them. I have been greatly pleased with the amount of time my children spend staring at the turtles, poking sticks at them, and otherwise generally harassing them instead of doing those things to me.
We have also discovered that our efforts to pretend to be brave in the face of bugs have paid off. Henry has not learned fear of bugs from me, and he will pick up roaches, dead OR alive, and feed them to the turtles.
Now, if we can figure out a way to keep Scott from sticking his face in their water out of sheer jubilant love for the turtles, I will be very satisfied with our experience indeed.