While we all know that Hamlet’s unbalanced girlfriend Ophelia was into flowers, it’s not generally known that Hamlet himself was a vegetable gardener. I have given it much thought* and there is simply no other explanation for the positively uncanny parallels between a vast majority of the lines in the play and my garden…
(A few of them aren’t Hamlet’s lines, they’re from other characters, some of them dead characters, but they are rich and heavy, with a citrusy and mildly oaky depth and aftertones of cherry and blackberry. And good with cheese.)
But on to Hamlet…
(*It is best not to ponder both Shakespeare and gardening while simultaneously sitting around on a warm evening, drinking cheap wine you bought at Trader Joe’s and watching the little tractor sprinkler move along the hose.)
“Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin.”
(Sinful pumpkin blossom, dreadfully late. But we should have plenty of pumpkins for Easter or possibly May Day. Unless someone cuts them off.)
“O horrible, O horrible, most horrible!”
(So the recent rain was inadequate for the rhubarb. Who knew?)
(Green beans climbed. Not too surprising really.)
(Deepest, darkest Tomato Jungle. I think I hear breathing in there– Where’s Tillie?)
(You can’t talk them into ripening, I’ve tried.)
(Yes this tomato has nasturtium flowers. All I can say is thank heaven for the Vegetable Garden Beautification Project to provide the tomatoes with some color.)
(Well kind to ME. Yummy salad-bound lettuce.)
I love that and just had to put it in even though the reference may seem a teensy bit oblique.
This photo is a sweeping long-range landscape, a vista across two vast raised vegetable garden beds, and here we abandon Shakespeare for a moment. (I can skip around like that because this is MY blog.)
So in the foreground fore-growing is a swath of onion tops. Pointy and lovely and some delightfully askew or flat. Then, just beyond, is the world famous Bed-spring Cucumber Trellis! (Really, it’s all over the internets).
This raised bed, with actual cucumbers,* (see them looking charmingly obscene there against the trellis) also accomodates a large pot (at the left) wherein grows, inexplicably, an infant hop vine.
Beside the hop pot grows a misplaced, mentally distressed cantaloupe plant and a lemon cucumber plant which produces spikey fruit covered in tiny needle-sharp thorns. I will never again grow lemon cucumbers.
The cucumbers are yellow and round as shown above. (That is a stem.) You have to peel these petite vegetables unless you seek to have your tongue pierced, and when they are completely peeled there is then nothing left to eat…
They would, however, make first-rate ammo for some sort of small catapult if you happen to have an annoying neighbor.
*Please, do not call them cukes. Really it sounds like one of Lewis Carroll’s words, where he crossed maybe cough and puke….
p.s. You were pretty certain I would use that “Something is rotten” quote weren’t you? But I didn’t want to talk about compost this time.