December Talking Meme, Day 2: growing peppers
December 2: pepper plants origin story, or how did you get interested in gardening? (for jen) [Tumblr crosspost]
For gardening in general, well, I've always thought that seeds are amazing -- these tiny, dead-looking specks are actually alive, and with nothing but dirt and water, light and air, they produce such marvelous and varied ends. And then some of them you can eat. How is that not astounding? When I was a kid, my parents tried a few times to have a garden, plus we had a little strawberry patch and some raspberry bushes/vines, and an apple tree. Even when they gave up on the garden per se, we still had a row of asparagus, and you have not tasted proper asparagus until you've had it grilled less than half an hour after it was picked. Delicious.
But I am lazy at heart, so I never did much gardening after I moved out. I kept houseplants -- I don't think I've ever had fewer than six houseplants at a time, even when I was living in tiny rooms in shared apartments and group houses, and I currently have twenty-one and counting -- but houseplants aren't really gardening, you know?
The peppers, therefore, were an accident.
My friend Susan came to Ithaca in spring of 2013, and since her visit happened to coincide with the Cayuga Wine Trail's annual Wine & Herb event, we decided to buy tickets and see what that was like. It turns out that at each participating winery, ticketholders get to sample a small selection of wines chosen to accompany a dish prepared with the herb (and/or vegetable) which that particular winery has been assigned. You are also given a small live version of that plant in a little plastic seedling pot. Susan and I got to twelve wineries that day, which was only possible because we stopped for a long lunch at which we drank nothing but water. (FYI, I do not recommend following our example unless you have a designated driver.) So we arrived back at my apartment with twelve small seedlings, which we decided to split equally.
I don't remember exactly why I ended up with all three peppers -- one jalapeño, one plain bell pepper, and one fancy bell pepper -- but I did. A week or two later, I gave my three actual herb seedlings to my mom, since she was more likely to use them in cooking. Then the peppers sat on my coffee table for a month while I wondered what on earth to do with them.
Eventually I bought two plastic pots from Target and dug out a big ceramic pot I had been vaguely intending to use to repot one of my houseplants. I also bought a bag of potting soil from the local Agway and walked a mile home carrying it and three stakes to tie the plants to as they grew. And I potted the peppers and stuck them onto my back porch, where they sat on a weird, low, metallic table left by the previous tenants.
The fancy bell pepper succumbed to squirrels within a week, but the others survived and I discovered all over again how ridiculously amazing it is to watch plants spin dirt and water, light and air, into life and growth. There were leaves! And flowers!! And I got actual peppers out of the process!!!
Of course I had to do it again the next year. And I will continue doing it again until it stops being amazing, which I think will happen approximately half past never. :-)
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December Talking Meme: All Days
(I still have seven days open -- the 14th, 19th, 21st, 22nd, 24th, 27th, and 30th -- if anyone wants to claim them.)
You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)
For gardening in general, well, I've always thought that seeds are amazing -- these tiny, dead-looking specks are actually alive, and with nothing but dirt and water, light and air, they produce such marvelous and varied ends. And then some of them you can eat. How is that not astounding? When I was a kid, my parents tried a few times to have a garden, plus we had a little strawberry patch and some raspberry bushes/vines, and an apple tree. Even when they gave up on the garden per se, we still had a row of asparagus, and you have not tasted proper asparagus until you've had it grilled less than half an hour after it was picked. Delicious.
But I am lazy at heart, so I never did much gardening after I moved out. I kept houseplants -- I don't think I've ever had fewer than six houseplants at a time, even when I was living in tiny rooms in shared apartments and group houses, and I currently have twenty-one and counting -- but houseplants aren't really gardening, you know?
The peppers, therefore, were an accident.
My friend Susan came to Ithaca in spring of 2013, and since her visit happened to coincide with the Cayuga Wine Trail's annual Wine & Herb event, we decided to buy tickets and see what that was like. It turns out that at each participating winery, ticketholders get to sample a small selection of wines chosen to accompany a dish prepared with the herb (and/or vegetable) which that particular winery has been assigned. You are also given a small live version of that plant in a little plastic seedling pot. Susan and I got to twelve wineries that day, which was only possible because we stopped for a long lunch at which we drank nothing but water. (FYI, I do not recommend following our example unless you have a designated driver.) So we arrived back at my apartment with twelve small seedlings, which we decided to split equally.
I don't remember exactly why I ended up with all three peppers -- one jalapeño, one plain bell pepper, and one fancy bell pepper -- but I did. A week or two later, I gave my three actual herb seedlings to my mom, since she was more likely to use them in cooking. Then the peppers sat on my coffee table for a month while I wondered what on earth to do with them.
Eventually I bought two plastic pots from Target and dug out a big ceramic pot I had been vaguely intending to use to repot one of my houseplants. I also bought a bag of potting soil from the local Agway and walked a mile home carrying it and three stakes to tie the plants to as they grew. And I potted the peppers and stuck them onto my back porch, where they sat on a weird, low, metallic table left by the previous tenants.
The fancy bell pepper succumbed to squirrels within a week, but the others survived and I discovered all over again how ridiculously amazing it is to watch plants spin dirt and water, light and air, into life and growth. There were leaves! And flowers!! And I got actual peppers out of the process!!!
Of course I had to do it again the next year. And I will continue doing it again until it stops being amazing, which I think will happen approximately half past never. :-)
-----
December Talking Meme: All Days
(I still have seven days open -- the 14th, 19th, 21st, 22nd, 24th, 27th, and 30th -- if anyone wants to claim them.)
You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)