I have found that on the whole, gardeners are generous people. We share seeds, we share plants, we share advice. We share just about everything (except underwear – because that would be gross… And spouses – because the 60s are over and nobody wants to go back to the 70s anyway). Anyhoo, the point is that you did not see Charles Dickens portraying Ebenezer Scrooge as a gardener – because he was stingy and gardeners are not stingy.

Wait, that is not the point. That is me taking a sharp left at making a point. The point is that you, by virtue of being a gardener are a kind and generous and loving and wonderful and helpful and undemanding and understanding (do you feel buttered up yet?)person. You want to help the world become a better fed, brighter and more green place. You want to share your garden (because you are a gardening saint – like Mother Teresa would have been if she had had time to garden instead of taking care of all those starving kids).

You can do more with your garden. You can change the world, or at the very least, what ends up on the plate of one of your neighbors. In my opinion, that is a really close second.

A few months ago, I had the pleasure of meeting, Dan Soulsby, the writer behind The Soulsby Farm blog. And he told me about his new non-profit group he was starting called Project Garden Share. Its aim is to take all the ways gardeners are generous and match them with those who would benefit most from that generosity.

If you have a garden, I really encourage you take a look at Project Garden Share and their mission. If you are outside the North East Ohio area, I also encourage you to take a look around. Groups like Project Garden Share are popping up in many cities around the country.

Share your garden… because you are a gardener and that’s just what we do.

In today’s trouble economic times, it behooves ($10 word of the day) us all to understand a little bit about investing money and the financial terms that are used when talking about money. You may not know this about me, but I am a financial advice junkie.  I listen to Marketplace podcasts, I read money blogs and when I am depressed, nothing cheers me up faster than listening to reruns of Dave Ramsey and Suze Orman shows (because listening to people get gently reprimanded and corrected for making colossal money blunders just somehow makes me feel better about my own mistakes).

But this is a garden blog and not a money blog so why I am I talking about this?  Because did you know that many financial terms can be explained in gardening terms?  It’s true! I know, I was shocked too when I thought of it.

Here is an example of what I mean.  Financial institutions and investments.  A financial institution is a garden bed and investments are plants.

If you do your research into financial institution is about and its past performance and use it for the right kinds of investments, a financial institution will likely do well for you, but even with the right investments, sometimes things can go wrong and your investment may not do as well as you had hoped.

You can literally replace “financial institution” with “garden bed” and “investments” with “plants” and the statement is still true.  See what I mean?  SO COOL!

You can talk about the garden using financial terms.

Interest – Hydrangea is an example of this. You plant a hydrangea and, once it is established, you can start cuttings from the mother plant.  Which you can then reinvest in your garden and watch as your garden portfolio grows.

Compound Interest – Iris. Plant an iris rhizome and in a few years, as long as there are no problems, you will have many rhizomes. Every new rhizome that grows, grows new rhizomes. It just keeps building on itself.

High Risk Investments – Roses. Yes, some people do fine with them and they do wonderfully for them, but people who grow roses have a tolerance for high maintenance and high plant loss.  But, if you find the right bed and the right rose plant and you are willing to bit a little extra work into the (or hire a gardener), you will be rewarded with an amazingly gorgeous flower (most of the time).  Plant a rose, ignore it and cross your fingers – well, it might work out for you.  Or you could end up with a bramble.

Low Risk Investment – Hosta. This plant can be grown by just about anyone and needs very little care.  Of course, if you do pay attention, make sure you start it at the right financial institution (i.e. flower bed), then you can get some pretty stunning results but even if you don’t, you still have a decent looking plant.  Could you have problems with your hosta investment? Sure, any plant can have problems. But the chances are far less.

Long Term Investments – Perennials. When you plant a perennial, you are looking for it to last for years and years.  Good (normally steady) growth with spurts of flowering rewards.

Short Term Investments – Annuals. They are only meant to last a short period. Yes, you can invest in them solely year after year and you get lovely flowers, but it can get a bit costly to rely solely on them.

Assets – Your garden plants. Every plant that you lovingly grew and cared for, whether you grew them from seed or bought them at the nursery or inherited them from a friend or family or just happened to stumble on it – this is your assets – your garden portfolio.

Debt – Weeds. You didn’t put down mulch, you didn’t get out there early in the spring to pull them, you  had poor management practices with your garden beds or you planted the wrong kind of investment (e.g. Bishop’s Weed). Whatever the reason, you have weeds.  Everybody has them and sometimes they are not a bad thing (I personally like Queen Anne’s Lace), but nevertheless, they tend to get out of hand quickly if you don’t deal with them and the saying “grow like weeds” is not just a saying.  It is a fact.  Weeds take compound interest to a whole new level and, left unmanaged, can completely wreck your garden investments.

Gardening and money have many things in common.  They require patience and care to grow them, sometimes things can terribly wrong despite your best efforts  but if you just think, learn from the bumps and work a bit, you will be handsomely rewarded in the long run.

The past six months have been, well, let’s just say… interesting. Mainly because an accurate description would be rather expletive filled and that’s just not a polite way to start out a post (but here is your warning that later on in this post I may be using them in earnest).  I won’t go into details, just because that just makes me sound whiny and pathetic but I can say that I have learned 2 very important words in these past 6 months and they are “I CAN’T”.  Wait, is that 3 words?  Do contractions count as more than one word?  Oh never mind, that is not the point.

In our society, we put a premium on the words “I CAN”. We tell our children that they can do anything. We read them stories about persistent locomotives and winning tortoises that instills in them this idea that we are like super heroes that can leap tall buildings and save the world all while maintaining perfect hair and a happy-happy smile. I grew up on these things and I have to say that up until recently, I thought that was right.  I could do it all. I could do everything I wanted and more.

Then life got fucking complicated.  I mean really fucking complicated. (Not whining, just saying… and I warned you)

And I learned that it is okay to say “I can’t”.  I can’t be the bestest den mom ever, heck I can’t even be a bad den mom right now. I can’t bake a 1,000 cookies and then show up with pearls on, not that I ever wore pearls. I can’t pull off the most sunning public speaking presentation ever.  I can’t be all that and a bag of chips.  I just can’t. And you know what, that is ok. I am not Super Mom and Master of The Universe wrapped all into one. I am a woman with kids, a business, a house and a garden.  That is damn impressive enough.

At first, using the magic words “I can’t” is painful.  After all, you are disappointing the locomotives and tortoises of the world and let me tell you from first-hand experience,  tortoises can look very disappointed in you when they want to.  But the more you use it, the more you realize that they are words of power. It is how you come to take control of all the things that really matter and discard the crap that everyone else made you think was important. The words “I can’t” are the 1-800-GOT-JUNK of your hoarders like time schedule.

And now it is spring (well not really, but if Mother Nature seems to think it is spring, then who am I to argue with her?) and the question for me now is what do I say “I can’t” to in the garden.

But while asking myself this question, I also realize that “I can’t” can also be a transformative phrase.

For example, due to my circumstances this year, I can’t start seeds in the house (well, I could but they are likely to be made into a toddler facial) but that does not mean I can’t start seeds. A quick search on the internet reveals directions for handy homemade greenhouses.  “I Can’t” is not a failure, it is an invitation to be creative.

I can’t get out in the garden as much this year either. But, there are a lot of things I don’t like to do in the garden.  Weeding is nice in moderation, but having to do it daily sucks. So how can I remove weeding from the equation and focus on what I really want to do in the precious little time I have in the garden?  I am personally thinking of hiring a hot, young gardener to do it for me, but I think the hubby may take exception to that. Regardless, “I can’t” is not a defeat,  it is a light shining bright on my time.

It’s been a tough (but rewarding) six months. I cannot tell you what the next six months will bring either. But I can say that I am now fully armed with a few choice words to get me through it– the 4 letter kind and I can’t.

Spring came early this year to Cleveland. In fact, it has been here for weeks if the evidence of snowdrops blooming in my garden is to be believed. So I am technically late signing on and I wish I was later, because my reasons for signing on now are not happy.  I did not want to open the season this way.

I am selfish when it comes to reasoning why spring is here so early. Despite the fact that this early spring affects millions of people country wide, I am fairly egotistically certain that the reasons for this environmental anomaly stems from very personal events.  For example, that because my husband is not here to keep me warm on cold nights, there have not been as many cold nights.  But I know logically that Mother Nature does not make such exceptions for people like me.

My Aunt Patty died last week and was memorialized today.  In this modern world of cheerful pink ribbons and triumphant 3 day walks, it is easy to believe that we have breast cancer beat. After all, almost everyone knows someone who had it and lived. So it is a shock when you find someone who gets it and does not survive, especially when that someone is someone you hold dear.

Aunt Patty was my husband’s aunt. She was the kind of woman that on paper you should hate in a typical female jealous of perfect women sort of way. In short, she was the varsity captain cheerleader of the grown-up world.  She had everything… incredible looks, money, fabulous style, a happy marriage and perfect, beautiful children. To top it all off, she raised those perfect children through childhood and teenagedom in a house with an absolutely white living room.  Who does that except for someone you cannot be and therefore should despise?   Except you could not hate Patty.  Not even a tiny, little iota. Because along with all of that perfection came a soul that was kind and always made you feel like you were an essential part of, not an intruder into, her perfect world. She made everyone feel like that and everyone loved her for that.

And you don’t have to believe me on that. The proof is in the roll call pudding, so to speak. Her wake and funeral were full of evidence of her life of grace and kindness. I am not exaggerating at all when I say  there was a line out the door and down the block to get into her wake and the church (a very large church) was filled shoulder to shoulder.  There are famous celebrities who have had fewer people come to mark their passing.

When I think of Patty, I will forever think of cut flowers wonderfully arranged and always beautiful. She always had them in life and was surrounded by them death as well. One could have mistaken the funeral home for an indoor garden for all the flowers that were there sent by people who were mourning her passing.

So spring came early to Cleveland this year. I think that the whole of the universe came together to make sure that my Aunt Patty got to see one more spring.  No one should have to die in winter but we do not get to make that kind of choice because the world is more important than one human being. But I’d like to think that while Mother Nature cannot fulfill this for everyone, for someone as special as Patty, she made an exception.

Welcome, Spring. Goodbye, Patty. We will miss you. The world is not as bright without your smile.

Part of Hanna’s Tomato Tastings 2011

I expect this tomato to be sweet, because why else would you name a tomato (or anything really) after a dessert if it was not sweet. I mean it would be just a cruel trick to name a vegetable after a luscious dessert if in fact it was not sweet.

Plus, this is another black tomato. Num-num-num. But, knowing that, I am confused. Black tomatoes do not normally bill themselves as sweet tomatoes. They tend to lean towards the savory end of things. Maybe that is about to change. We will see.

The description from the company I bought this tomato from reads:

This variety produces pretty, globe shaped fruit of medium size. They are a stunning deep caramel color with hints of red and chocolate. The flavor is rich, sweet and full-bodied, and the texture is tender and smooth. An attractive tomato that is great for both home and market.

The Beauty Pageant:

Size: About the size of a baseball.

Shape: Mostly round. Slightly flattened sides.

Color: Deep brick red with deep green shoulders.

The inside:Multi-chambered with very loose gel and large seeds.

Texture: Smooth and silky.

Tasting:

Off the Vine Tasting: It is sweet, but not dessert sweet. More like melon sweet. But it also has the typical black tomato savoriness. It is an interesting combination and I am not certain how I feel about it.

Sliced and Salted Tasting: Salt give it a more distinct melon flavor.

Cooking Thoughts: Certainly a complex tomato flavor, so would be fun for a slice and serve side dish.

Growing Notes:

Healthy enough with medium production.

Will Hanna grow this one again:

Probably not. But not because it is a bad tomato. The flavor just does not sit well with me. It is interesting, complex and certainly unique – just not a combination I want in my tomatoes. I would recommend that others try it though.

If you find yourself wondering what to do this coming weekend, then I encourage you to stop on by the RIPE! Festval being held at the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. Lots of fresh and local food plus talks on how you can tap into the local fresh foods here in Cleveland.

Oh, yeah, and I will be there too! Stop by my talk on Sunday the 25th at 12:00pm. I will be talking about Heirloom Tomatoes (what else!) and will be passing out samples for all to try.

Hope to see you there!

10 years ago, about this time, I was thinking to myself, “Who the hell is stupid enough to fly a Cessna into the Twin Towers? Those things are HUGE!” And to be fair, it was a topic of great interest and agreement among my fellow co-workers for about 10 minutes… Until someone informed us that a second plane had hit the Towers and a sickening realization came over us. And then the world made a giant shift into chaos.

Even then if you had told me in that moment that 10 years later exactly I would be 2 weeks out from sending my husband overseas to fight in a war started by that same plane, I would have told you that you were fucking nuts. My husband was not in the military at that time… I had babies at home. But here we are. 10 years later. Husband deploys to Afghanistan in 2 weeks. Funny that. Well, not really, but you have to laugh or you will just try really hard not to cry.

We have gotten criticism regarding this decision for quite awhile. “How could you do this when you have children?”, is the most common. And this is always the most confusing one for me.

I guess it is because some Americans don’t understand who it is who protects them.

When my husband left for Basic Training, he left with the knowledge that most of the people he would be training with would be closer to our eldest son’s age than his own. For those of you who would not like to do the math, that means we generally send our near-children to protect us. And in protecting us, I mean everything from firing guns at seen and unseen enemies all the way across to pulling babies and grandmothers, dead or alive, out of disaster ravaged houses. A good portion of them are not even old enough to drink (which is so unfair when you consider what we are asking them to do).

Regardless of age or intent, we, soldiers and their families, do this willingly, which is more choice than anyone of the innocent people who died on 9/11 had. A few months ago we took our children to the Flight 93 Memorial in Pennsylvania. We wanted to explain why their father did this and why he had to go. One of my kids was barely old enough to remember 9/11, one was barely alive before 9/11 and one came into the world after 9/11. So we stood and looked at pictures and at a big green field that use to be a crater and we answered questions. So many questions. And they get it. They understand that Dad goes away for a little while on the gamble that because of what he is doing (which is building roads in Afghanistan, BTW), someone else’s mom and dad won’t have to go away for forever.

My garden is starting her slow slide into a susurrus peace and I am glad for the upcoming rest. I will tie a yellow ribbon around the not quite old oak tree in my front yard and life will continue – changed but still there. Just like it did 10 years ago, when the fate of my life and my love was shifted by an airplane that I initially thought had simply flown off course. But it knew its course and, now, so do we.

Note: Comments are turned off on this post because last time I posted about my husband’s military service I recieved a few unwanted (and one unwarrented) comments about his service and the decision to join later in life. I know there are many of you out there who wish us well and I really appreciate your thanks and support. But with my husband’s deployment so close, I do not wish to have this time marred by a few comments from idiots who have nothing better to do than to make some “profound” but rude point on my lowly blog about how they object to the military or our choice. I am sorry to the rest of you that this had to be done. I hope you understand.

Part of Hanna’s Tomato Tastings 2011

Ohhh… A black tomato. I love, love, love black tomatoes and am always keen to try new ones. I have to say that this one I bought for the name. What’s not to love about a tomato called “Southern Night”. It brings to mind sultry, steamy nights in New Orleans or Atlanta. Rich, thick and languid darkness filled with mystery and beauty. Well, it does right up until you learn that this tomato was developed in the USSR. Oops… I guess they had a different Southern Night in mind, but I can still dream that some cold and lonely Soviet plant breeder was dreaming of the warm and sultry US South when he named it.

The description from the company I bought this tomato from reads:

An attractive “Black” tomato developed in the old Soviet Union. Great tasting fruit are dark and intensely colored, being a deep maroon. Very sweet and luscious, these are hard to not eat right in the garden. A classic that is well worth growing if you like real flavor.

The Beauty Pageant:

Size: About the size of a baseball.

Shape: Mostly round. There was cracking on the top as well.

Color: Deep reddish brown through the tomato with dark green shoulders.

The inside:Multi-chambered with slightly loose gel and rather large seeds.

Texture: Just a smidge mealy, but not enough to really be that bad.

Tasting:

Off the Vine Tasting: This is a good tomato. It starts out with very strong, deep tomato flavor and progresses into a savoriness that is reminiscent of beef. Plus, it has a wonderful aftertaste that stays with you, again, as though you have just taken a bite of steak.

Sliced and Salted Tasting: Salt just turns all the flavors up and makes a party in your mouth.

Cooking Thoughts: This is a classic side dish tomato. Perfect for when you want to showcase to your friends what makes heirloom tomatoes awesome.

Growing Notes:

This has not been a big producer in my garden. Great tomatoes, but not many of them. As it is a Russian tomato and it is now getting cool outside, I may see an uptick in production now.

Will Hanna grow this one again:

Yes, with a caveat. Certainly, the flavor of this tomato is a keeper, but if the production is not better, I just don’t have room for it. But, plants went in way late this year so that might be the reason for its under production. I will plant it again and give it another chance. Well worth it for the flavor.

Part of Hanna’s Tomato Tastings 2011

This is a Russian tomato, which means it should do well here because Russian tomatoes are bred to be fast growing in cold weather. I say should because in theory, Cleveland is suppose to be a rather cool place. In reality, we have a shortish growing season that consists of going from snow and 30F weather to drought like sun and 90F weather in a matter of weeks. Spring does not really happen here.

These tomatoes are suppose to be “early” type tomatoes. But, not surprisingly, these tomatoes did not really perform for me until the weather got cooler. Russian tomato like cool weather and these showed that.

I am a fan of Russian tomatoes. They tend to be good tasting. Which also makes sense, because let’s face it. If you are going to put that much effort into creating a tomato that can actually grow that close to Santa’s Village, it does not hurt to put in a little extra effort to make sure they taste good too.

The description from the company I bought this tomato from reads:

Great Russian tomato perfect for cooler/shorter growing regions. Sturdy plant produces abundant clusters of 4-oz., bright-red, round, juicy fruit that is surprisingly flavorful for a cooler ripening variety.

The Beauty Pageant:

Size: Slightly smaller than a baseball.
Shape: Slightly oval shaped with just a hint of ruffle on the shoulders. They were surprisingly uniform in shape and size.

Color: Solidly red with just a hint of pink.

The inside:3 chambers with rather large seeds. The gel is very tight.

Texture: Pretty smooth meat. Skin is not thick. Seedscan be a bit of a distraction.

Tasting:

Off the Vine Tasting: Good, very strong tomato flavor, especially in the meat. The gel has a strong sour, citrusy flavor that goes nicely with the tomato flavor in the meat.

Sliced and Salted Tasting: Salt removes the tomato flavor on the initial bite, though it comes back as you swallow. The sour flavor is as strong as it is without salt. There is also just a hint of sweetness.

Cooking Thoughts: Good frying tomato. It will hold up well to frying in mouth consistency and flavor. Would also do for salsas and other tomato salads.

Growing Notes:

Was not an early producer in my garden, but now that the weather has cooled down, I can see this as the savior of my fall garden as I see it producing well until a hard frost takes it out.

Will Hanna grow this one again:

Maybe. This is a pretty good tomato. The amazing uniformity of size and shape has some possibilities and the flavor is really nice.

Part of Hanna’s Tomato Tastings 2011

This tomato has eluded me since 2008. Every year I have planted the seeds and every year, disease, weather or my own stupidity took away my chance to add this tomato to my formal tomato list. But not this year, damn it. I have learned to label well, I have finally figured out how to rotate without spreading disease and a watering system has spared me most of the grief that weather can bring. This tomato is finally laid to rest on the tomato tasting list on this day. BTW, the seed viability shelf life on this tomato is outstanding.

The description from the company I bought this tomato from reads:

French heirloom. Produces dependable heavy, clusters of 6-ounce deep red, slightly flattened, oblate fruits that are meaty, lightly lobed and contain an excellent, complex, slightly tart taste. I’ve found that this variety also does well in the cooler summer conditions of California’s bay areas. An all-’round great tomato for slicing.

The Beauty Pageant:

Size: As wide as a baseball, but just a smidge taller than a Krispy Kream donut (Mmmm… donuts).

Shape: The is a pretty flat tomato. Ruffled shoulders, but not dramatically so.

Color: Pretty red but with some small splotches of orange, particularly around the shoulders.

The inside:Loose gel with medium seeds. Multi chambered with thin walls and a thick core.

Texture: Silky meat and gel. Skin is a bit thick but not terribly so. Definitely a messy tomato, though. Juice everywhere.

Tasting:

Off the Vine Tasting: Very strong savory flavor from the gel. Almost like a meat savory. There is a subtle sour flavor as well as just a little hint of sweetness. Nice solid tomato aftertaste.

Sliced and Salted Tasting: Salt really tones down the sour, which leaves behind that sour and savory flavors. Really nice combination.

Cooking Thoughts: This is a good but messy sandwich tomato. I had juice all over me at the end of the tasting. But, I am thinking that it would be a great tomato to use for bruchetta. That juice would mingle, make friends and soak into the bread. Heaven.

Growing Notes:

Healthy… this year. It has succumbed to disease pretty quickly in the past.

That being said, the plant has grown well and is healthy this yera. Looks to be producing well, too.

Will Hanna grow this one again:

Maybe. Flavor is robust and complex. Texture is nice. But it does concern me that it took 3 years for me to get this tomato to a tasting. I don’t have enough room in my garden to wait 3 years for a pretty good tomato.