June 22, 2009

It's not the size that counts . . . (well, maybe it is)

We're talking carrots here, people. (But at least they're dirty carrots.)

Last year, as you can see by looking back at some of my old posts, my adventures in growing carrots proved me to be a miserable failure. None - NOT ONE - of my many dozens of carrots of the 4 different crops of carrots topped an inch in length. And the ones that managed to take carrot-ish form were eaten through by ants. 

Pitiful, right?

So this year,  I tried a new approach: plant carrots that are supposed to be short and stubby so I can claim victory no matter what. Meet the Danvers Carrot.

The other morning, I started the day in my favorite way - coffee, husband, garden tour with the sunrise.
(and no makeup)

We wandered over to the front gardens to see what we could see.
(That's Erik, seeing all that he can see.)

And Hark! I spotted something!
A mature carrot?!
So I tugged and tugged and came to an instant conclusion:
 - that I didn't have to tug very hard. Not a good sign.
But it was bigger than an inch and not an ant in sight. So that made me declare a 73% victory.

And then I ate it. It tasted like a carrot. The rest are still in the ground. I'm aiming for a 100% victory in one week. Set your watches!

1 comment:

Michaela Dawn said...

Ahhh, hahaha, I had a belly chuckle indeed over this adventure. I've always enjoyed the short sticks myself:))))

BTW: I've had the privilege of enjoying your mothers company this summer at our Black Hills Farmers Market booth and I swear the woman is a paragon a perfect antidote to a stormy mood, this lady bird of yours has a fantastic wit and its subtle enough to ease you into her sophisticated banter.... just love it... and I am very glad to have found you through them:)

Take Care,