As I start making my lists and crossing things off, getting ready for our week at the cottage, I am starting to worry about the babies I am leaving behind – my little vegetables, planted so tenderly and lovingly in their pots, holding such promise of yummy goodness.
I hate leaving them behind, worried that they will wilt and wither away in the ten days we are gone. I’ve considered asking Mary to stay home and watch over them, or even packing them up for the trip – they are in pots, after all!
The weekend we spent on the French River did not go well for our tender tubers. When we left, a pepper was getting ready to ripen. It was big and green and shiny, proudly hanging on it’s branch and starting to turn red in the sun. We came home to find the seeds scattered across the deck, along with a piece of the stem. We lost another, smaller pepper last weekend. Raccoons, you maniacs! You ate it up! Damn you! God damn you all to hell!*
Our two English cucumbers have been spared, thankfully, and are thriving – for now. They are getting bigger every day and will be ripe and ready in the next few weeks. I will be crushed if I get home to find them wilted, or worse – eaten. I may have to sacrifice their future size and pick them early. It may be the only way to guarantee I get them before those damn raccoons do.