Gardening is deep in my roots. Both my grandfathers had huge gardens.
One of my grandfathers had a garden the size of about 1/3 of his big back yard. Not only did he garden but he planted all kinds of fruit trees, pear, cherry, apricot, and peach. It was a magical yard of flavors. It left a lasting impression on me of what made up the flavors of summer.
My other Grandpa had a huge garden, probably 3 acres or so. It was a family affair, in that everyone worked it. Grandpa & Grandma, Mom & Dad, all us kids and even a few of the neighbor kids. We worked this garden mostly by hand, though I can remember clearly the year Grandpa got a new Troy-Bilt rototiller. It was quite an event. Though I only remember Grandpa and maybe my Dad running that contraption. The rest of us were expected to hoe between the plants where the machine could not get. And hoe we did. I don’t think that there was a weed in the whole garden. This huge garden was planted to give us enough to put by for the winter. We grew corn, beans, tomatoes, zucchini, strawberries and raspberries. I was where so much of what my mother put by came from.
We are soon heading to the midwest for holiday, during that time one of the wonderful things we are planning into the trip is not only who we will see but delicacies of summer produce we plan to eat, since we still had frost last night in Montana. Gardening here is not like the gardening of my childhood.