Skip to content

Harvest Monday, November 21, 2011

November 21, 2011

Short and sweet this week:

20g of tiny tiny bell peppers – panic harvest when we had a hard freeze forecast… ended up being one of the warmest nights that week.


And the last of the lovage this Saturday – it was already a little yellow, so no pictures, but it was still good enough to make that pot of beef broth even yummier.

And if you want to see more harvests, you know where to go – thanks for hosting, Daphne!



Not so short…

I’ve mentioned my work neighbour, Mrs T., here a few times because of the apples and cherries I got to pick in her garden. She’s been in and out of the hospital since she fell and broke her pubic bone a few months ago, got a place at a nursing home, went to the hospital again…

Last Monday, her friend came to the Teeny Tiny Village Nursery to let us know she had died on Sunday night.

I can’t honestly say I liked Mrs T, but I’ll remember her as a very nice, a very generous woman.

I’ll remember the first time I met her, in my early days at the TTVN, coming into the shop with several relatives and one of her cats, a black tom, who might have been called Max. He jumped up onto the counter, looking like a little vampire cat with his canines sticking out, letting himself be petted while I rung Mrs T. up.

I’ll remember the time, also early on, that I heard voices from the greenhouse while working in the shop, and when I peered out, there she was again, limping down the greenhouse, with her cane and again with her relatives in tow.

I’ll remember learning she lived right behind the TTVN, and coming in the back door of the greenhouses was the shortest way for her.

I’ll remember the ridiculously generous tips she gave – there was one time when she had to pay €3, and she gave me a fiver and told me to keep the change. I’ll remember all those times she slid a couple of coins back  across the counter towards me, and said, “These are for you,” and then she fished around in her wallet with those stiff old fingers, and gave me a few more.

I’ll remember her other cat, Mädi, sleeping on the greenhouse tables, and how heartbroken she was when Mädi and the vampire cat, as I thought of him, died.

I’ll remember when she got two new kittens, Max – once again black and loving to be cuddled by everyone – and Peter, ginger and white, ridiculously shy around everyone but Mrs T.

I’ll remember how she insisted on paying for all her relatives when they came to the TTVN with her.

I’ll remember summertime chats over the garden fence, through the open side vent of the greenhouse.

I’ll remember the flowers in her garden, the chinese asters and the zinnias, the French marigolds and sweet williams, the double impatiens and the lettuce she grew only to feed to somebody’s chickens

I’ll remember how she invited me to come pick cherries in her garden, and how she even helped me pick, cane and stiff old fingers and all.

I’ll remember her as I eat some of those (frozen) cherries in a cake today, and the last of the apples from her garden later this week.

I’ll remember her if I ever need a crazy cat lady in one of my stories.

I’ll remember her as I feed and cuddle that unspeakably cute Max-cat at work.

I’ll remember her when I give tips, trying to pass on her generosity.

Rest in peace, Mrs T. You may have annoyed me with indecisiveness and endless creaky-voiced chit-chat sometimes, but … maybe I did like you after all.

5 Comments leave one →
  1. November 22, 2011 03:54

    What a nice observation of this woman’s life – as it crossed with yours from time to time. Thank you for sharing this bit of her with us. And do keep spreading the generosity. We most definitely need more of that in this world.

    • November 23, 2011 17:51

      I find the best way to make sure I remember the people who’ve touched my life is to tell others about them. 🙂

  2. Andrea permalink
    November 23, 2011 12:07

    Early frosts and late frosts are a gardeners nightmare! Your bell peppers look great!

  3. November 23, 2011 19:08

    I’m sorry to hear about your neighbor. It sounds like she was a wonderful person.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: