R.I.P. sad little cukes.

I tried to grow you in a pot on our sunny patio. In the spring, you sprouted so green, so full of promise.

I watered. I fertilized. You grew in to a healthy vine and I secured you to my homemade trellis with bits of twine.

By mid-summer, your leaves turned a sickly yellow and became crispy to the touch. Your flowers were poorly polinated. Paper thin, most died on the vine. Your fruit, though unique in shape, was poor in flavor.

I watered. I fertilized. And now, I must compost you.

In your pots, I will grow more snap peas, kale and some mystery greens from Italy (Thanks Matt and Monika!). By fall, I will be making delicious salads, garnished with home-grown tomatoes and cucumbers from the farmer’s market.

Next year, I will remember make room in the garden for your predecessors to grow.

Sorry, I couldn’t do right by you.

Before Danika renamed herself Ivana Marzipan, this pickling pro was known as The Taco Belle.

At age sixteen with no job experience, we were lucky to work outside the bun. (Until the late 90’s, Maple Grove was just a gravel pit on the way to St. Cloud — A new Taco Bell was a really big deal.)

We schlepped burritos, cheeseritos, and cinnamon sticks with a smile. We cheerfully changed stinky tex-mex garbage that leaked diet Mountain Dew and refried beans on our teal striped uniforms. When we worked the late-nite drive-thru, we happily helped drunken Minnesotans pronounce our most popular menu items.

“Sir, we sell Chicken ‘Fa-hee-Tahs’ not chicken ‘Fa-Gyn-Ahs’.”

Through it all, Danika was radiant — a blushing belle in Border Sauce. (I had horrible acne and always managed to get sour cream stuck in my hair.)

Several career changes later, The Taco Belle… er… Ms. Ivana Marzipan has traded fast food for slow food. She can whip up a delicious veggie soup and bake a batch of buns on the side. Warm out of the oven, they are heaven with butter and perfect for soaking up the broth at the bottom of the bowl.

Danika also makes the tastiest of pickles. I was flattered and a little bit nervous when she offered me a tutorial. It’s one thing to screw up a stranger’s chicken ‘Fa-hee-Tahs’, it’s another thing to scald your friend with boiling water and rush to urgent care with third degreen burns.

When I arrived, Danika had finished most of the prep work and a batch of pickles was already cooling on the counter. Though she was sweating, Danika was (still) radiant and moved through her hot kitchen with grace and authority.

As she lowered more jars into the boiling water, Ms. Ivana Marzipan explained her process. She was forthcoming with her canning tips and tricks but tight-lipped about her secret recipe. I got some of the ingredients out of her, but I gladly traded my silence for a jar of pickles.

My watermelons (above) are as happy as can be. Two weeks ago, I had a handfull of tiny little buds (middle). This morning I had 8 or 9 baseball-size beauties ripening on the vines — Yay!

Full of bright flowers, my Prescott Fond Blanc melons (not pictured) are a little behind. Both varieties are tangled in the nasturtiums and spilling out of their bed.

Are there any innovative ways to train or trellis the melon vines so they don’t take over the whole backyard?

More importantly, are melons plagued by pests?

How do you protect the developing fruits from wear and tear?

Spotted cuke leaves, withered eggplant and yellow tomato plants — Can you help solve these veggie mysteries before they become garden catastrophes?

From Kay:
Help, I need some garden expertise! I don’t know what is happening with my fanfare cucumbers. They are looking a little wilted with yellow spots, that kind of look like salt/lime deposit left after a spot dries on your countertop. Do I need to fertilize, too much water, not enough water, bugs… anyone?

From Rebecca:
I grew my eggplants from seed and just as they were starting to look really nice and fairly good sized, the leaves on them started to yellow and curl under. My tomatoes looked bad too, so I assume they got some type of fungus. I planted them outside anyway, thinking maybe the fresh air and sunshine would perk them up and kill whatever fungus they had (and unlike the tomatoes, they are varieties I cannot purchase as plants anywhere and its too late to start new sets so I would really like them to live), but it hasn’t. They are still alive, but that’s about all I can say for them. Any advice on how to save them at this point?