My garden seems to have become a metaphor for this pregnancy. The most obvious food-related parallel to any pregnant woman has to be watermelons — we all look like we’re trying to sneak one into the movies under our shirt by 9 months. So I felt very ceremonial, and a little hopeful, when I decided to pick one of our watermelons a couple of weeks ago, at the suggestion of a neighbor who said they tend to be a hard fruit to judge as far as when they’re ripe, and sometimes you just have to try one and see. I was more than happy to take him up on the idea, and so we went down to the garden and selected the biggest one and solemnly cut the umbilical vine. Then everyone took turns holding the watermelon baby and posing for blurry pictures.
Lesson #1, don’t let Ruthie hold the new baby — she almost dropped the watermelon several times and showed a clear lack of understanding (or more likely caring) when we told her to HOLD ON and NOT DROP IT!
Then the big moment came for us to slice it open and see how ripe it was…
Answer: Not at all. Not even a hint of pink, let alone red. Wop wop. And it felt like SUCH a huge message about the baby at that point, too. He’s not ready, and you don’t want him to show up until he is. You want a plump, sweet, juicy baby who’s ready to fall right off the vine. Don’t rush it.
Oh but, sigh, it’s hard to keep carrying this watermelon around under my shirt!
In other harvest news (and man, have you seen that harvest moon? I thought for sure that would help move things along!) those potatoes we were doubting for their lack of blossoms have proved us wrong.
We planted white and red potatoes, and the red ones turned out to be actually a variety that’s purple on the inside, which strikes me as very healthy. We baked some up tonight and they were a little mealy but good!
Most exciting, though, is our apple tree. The year we moved in we saw it and though, oh fun, a crabapple tree! We’ll get pretty blossoms in the spring. Then this year we took a closer look and did some research and realized that, no, those aren’t crabapples, they’re actual apples. Wild apples, probably Pippins, it turns out. They’re really spotty and ugly, and some of them have been nibbled a bit already…
Which will have to hold me over until baby McAvoy is good and ripe!