This is Steve’s garden. Clearly there was inspiration from his grandfathers, his grandmothers, his parents…plus Rube Goldberg and Jed Clampett.
Yes, those are plastic trashcans and metal shelves holding up his tomato plants. There are regular cages as well, but somehow this is a more creative solution.
Ever since Toby, the dog who pees on everything, showed up, Steve’s garden has been relegated to a few wooden wine barrels. What once was a flourishing salsa garden is a hit or miss exercise in getting to the produce before the birds do. Some years he’s successful, some years he’s not (last summer his season resulted in three fabulous and cherished specimens). Some years he gives up. This year he is fighting the good fight and we’re going to have a bounty. He checks on them every morning and evening. He gets so much pleasure from his garden and I love the promise (so far 8 and counting) of tomatoes, basil, rosemary, cilantro, oregano and mint (enjoyed the herbs all spring).
I am feeling a little greedy and already anticipating next year. Perhaps it’s time to try again for peppers, beans, lemon cucumbers and squash? Perhaps a few more tubs? Or a real garden in real ground, with a real fence? And maybe without the trash cans?
A girl can dream her salsa dreams, can’t she?