Behold the harvest! 'Tis similar, based on published reports, to those first miserable harvests of the pilgrims back in the 1620s. Yes, we planted late, and yes, we failed to make friends with the natives, and yes, we failed to bury dead fish, as Dave so astutely pointed out. For those of you who have never gotten your hands dirty in this ugly business of growing your own food (to whom I say, as the crazy lady in church did years ago, "Go out from Babylon, people!" She and her clan eventually did just that, purchasing an old Greyhound bus and moving to Montana. I would certainly love to see the stats on "people living in compounds as a percent of the total population" for states like Montana, the Dakotas, and Idaho), let me introduce you to the harvest.
Top Row: Vinny, Stanley, Maurice, Harold, Michael, Fredo, Sonny, and Manny Radish.
Bottom Row: The Carrot Boys (Ian and Seamus) and the Onion Twins (Homer and Omer)
And this is their group picture AFTER getting cleaned up. As you might guess, they didn't last long in civil society and were unceremoniously dumped into the mulch pile.
And thus it ends. No more posts about the yarden, the harvest, the battle with Lord Frith. I will spend the winter in my own personal hibernation, reading books about efforts to sequence the radish genome to produce a more robust crop.
1 comment:
I have to admit, enlarging the picture made me a titch squeamish. That, combined with my face hurting from laughing so much, has led to discomfort. Amazing. PLEASE tell me that Jamestown will give it the old college try in the spring!
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