Wishing for a Garden

Last year, I submitted my name in hopes of getting a community garden plot here in Euclid.  I can only assume that either the Lord intervened, or I’m on a waiting list, because I didn’t get one.  I suppose it was probably a good thing, because, as my husband reminded me, I had school to finish and there was no way I’d have time for it.  (Much as I  hate to admit it, he was right).

So I’m going to go back and nag them again this year.  I would love to have space for some tomatoes and corn and maybe some green peppers.  It’s always a good thing to have tomatoes to turn into spaghetti sauce.  I can’t do strawberries, because you have to plant them and then wait a year (at least that’s what Dad always said) for fruit.  I think I’d have to have my own land to plant on for that, so it’s off to Rosby’s (or whereever) when it’s time for strawberry picking.

That reminds me of something funny (now — it wasn’t so much then).  We did raise strawberries when I was a kid, but we never had enough for Mom to freeze, so we would go pick them out in Randolph somewhere.  They had a strand of electrified fence around the patch (the surrounding space was sometimes pasture).  One time, we were picking and I had finished my quart.  I spied a particularly nice, large, ripe berry and surreptitiously picked it and started to head out of the patch to put the quart in the flat and eat my berry.  I put the basket down and (without thinking) decided to lift the wire and go sit on the grass.  Instead, I shocked myself and turned the nice berry into jam.  So much for my life of crime, stealing strawberries.

Guess you had to be there, but it still makes me laugh.

By the way, if you’re from the east side of Cuyahoga County or the west side of Lake County, and you know of a community garden which takes people who live near the area, let me know, please?

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