The view from on top of the garden house, basically up in the trees where Shea does circus tricks, shows a jungle of green and splotches of color. Only up close do you notice bush beans about to explode, tomatoes and peppers coming along and Raspberries that need some picking. Salad is fading fast and mustard and broccoli are going to seed and I will probably let them.
I picked my first zucchini, manageably sized for a -not-zucchini bread-purpose. BTW - feel free to share recipes!
This is a high summer garden and I document it because this weekend is our little town's "high summer" festival, The Strawberry Festival, this year the 100th year on Vashon Island. A completely different kind of jungle.
We will be bombarded by thousands of brautwurst eating, this and that buying, porta-potty using multitudes from all over heck. Or as us locals describe them as the "touristas".
Now, don't get me wrong. If you catch me at the right time, I can wax enthusiastic about Vashon better than our local Chamber of Commerce.
I really like it that all these folks come here and spend their money. Thank you, come again. Maybe it is all those years in retail. It is so nice when folks come on over, pay for stuff, then leave. An industry is born. Bless their hearts.
Since we moved here, we talked and talked about what to sell, how to cash in on our little summer Cash Cow. We debated lots; curb side Strawberry Shortcake, Bratwurst wagon? Since we live so close to town or practically on the parade route, it's not a bad idea but we have yet to "go anywhere near there".
Our Festival experience usually starts Friday night with rides, Saturday 11 AM for the parade - anyone can be in the parade and you don't really need a good reason.
Molly usually wants to go off and be a kid after the parade which has a lot to do with walking around without the parents and having money in your pocket to buy snacks.
Of course, after the parade I usually want to go home. Crowds are not my favorite and prolonged exposure has been known to put me in foul spirits. I have learned to appreciate festival from my own house. Nicely stocked so that a grocery run won't be needed, where I can see plenty of wacky craziness (vintage cars and motorcycles, fire trucks, colorful floats, art cars, horse and buggy, you name it) cruising along on the road right in front of my house.
I am so getting to be such a geezer! But, not as bad as some who skip town completely during festival.
This year Molly is threatening to busk; she hasn't yet tried it at festival and has been such a summer time kid that she hasn't even practiced so who knows if that will come off or not.
The lesson of the pizza bowl fail
20 hours ago