Pepper in a Tutu
Every time I see a pepper with the end of the blossom still clinging to it I think if a little girl twirling in a tutu. This makes me happy.
Getting my hands in dirt always makes me feel better. Today, I thought about my Grandmother Misao Kasahara. She would have been 102 today. I thought about how she grew sweet potatoes during the war on a small patch of dirt borrowed from some monks. Those sweet potatoes helped her keep her girls and their cousin Junchan alive.
I remember when I was a little girl in Indiana on an Air Force base where Mom grew cherry tomatoes alongside the house. I always have loved the way your fingers feel if you brush the leaves. I remember the first beefsteak tomato my Dad grew in our backyard in Maryland where he could finally have a real garden that we wouldn't have to abandon in three years. Mom used to love to weed the garden and found it soothing. You could tell how bad her day was by how fast the time elapsed between when she came in the front door and when she scooted out the back to go weed. The worse the day, the quicker the journey.
I re-potted pepper plants today, all four were in too-small pots. I'm pretty sure that you're not supposed to re-pot things that blooming, blossoming or fruiting, but really I felt there was no choice. I still don't know much of what to expect from these peppers. I harvested three today that are labeled "hot chili peppers" but don't taste too hot. One had a blemish on the end and I recalled that the farmer from whom I bought the seedling said if they were left on too long this would happen. My jalapeños are growing well and the "el hombre" are getting long. None are red yet but I'm not even sure they're supposed to.
"chili peppers" - anyone know what these are really called?
Here are some photos of the rest of the garden.
Late summer slideshow