I was never astute enough to figure out how ripe it was in the supermarket and I wasn't doing any better as farmer- of- the- minute.
The advice I received wasn't too helpful: thump the end, smack the side, listen for,you know- that sound or, does it look ripe?
My advice- givers apparently are not gardeners and are probably also confused in the supermarket.
It's no longer a problem because when I checked, the oldest of the three melons had broken loose from its moorings and is now declared ripe for eating.
The tomatoes and pepper represent the morning harvest and now they're simmering on the stove in salsa mode.
The most fertile part of the garden was originally a hump of grass sitting higher than any other part of the back lawn and now it's the veggie garden. My daughter jokes about what might be buried under there and we're cautious about checking too carefully.
Acquaintances in a nearby town dug into the garden at the back of their newly-purchased century home and unearthed some early settlers, with some of their clothing intact. This can cause serious problems with the government so its better not to get too curious.
But I digress.
All we now for sure is that anything planted there grows with amazing speed and strength. The tomato vines got so hefty that they turned their cages into corkscrews.
A visit to the junk yards unearthed this racoon boot scraper; my cats are dying to make his acquaintance but he stands guard on the back deck and they don't.
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