09/18/2026 Friday 67-83F Cloudy
“Plop!” A horse chestnut fell from the tree onto the street. Then a car roaring by, smashed it so the nut’s flesh and bone stuck to the ground waiting for the next rain’s wash.
A bee flew straight to my jasmine, disappointed to find no flower there and flew away;
My favorite iris rebloomed this week—every other day it bloomed one flower, cautiously and a bit stingily; so far, it has collected three white (with a tint of blue) blossoms on its spikes. The other cluster of the same cultivar sticks out some more spikes, a bold announcement for its coming show next week.
......
For sure Autumn is here.
Weeks ago, I sowed some vegetable seeds: Celery, spinach, cilantro, pak choi... They are all cold season vegetables and have sprouted. I don’t know whether the groundhog has found them or not, but slugs do—which is told by the little holes and uneven bites on the leaves. Hopefully some of them will survive, will provide us with some sort of (if not abundant) garden produce.
We have been spoiled by home-grown vegetables. Starting from August, the vegetables growing in my garden couldn’t only meet our daily consumption, they were a little too much. I guess my compost holes and cow manure have provided them a good amount of nutrition, so they all grew very well. In early August, when I looked the baby loofah gourds loaded on the vines, I said to my husband: “It seems like we will have a lot of gourds to eat.”
“I don’t mind eating them every day.” He claimed.
But now, after one month’s harvest, I can see the light in his eyes dimming. He didn’t really complain about anything since he encouraged me to plant all those vegetables, but I know he was a bit tired of eating them. In the past when I harvested the tomatoes, I would pick up every fallen one; but now, since my basket is always full, I don’t bother to bend down for them anymore. That’s why I said we have been spoiled.
This Tuesday, after another harvest of the loofah gourds, we decided to gift them to our Chinese neighbors because they were the very few ones in our neighborhood who knew how to cook them. I rang the door; they answered. After showing them my basketful of loofah gourds, they laughed: “Oh, thank you. We also planted them this year and have plenty.”
Well, at that moment, my instinct was to take back my basket and telling them no bother. However, they accepted it, and said: “We grow a different cultivar which we think tastes better. Let’s get some for you to try.”
That’s something I should have expected--because they were home gardeners as well though they didn’t grow loofah last year (that’s why I thought of gifting them my loofah gourds), but I had totally forgotten about it. When I finally realized the situation, they had invited both me and my husband (he followed me and was curious to see our neighbor’s garden which I called “a much more professional vegetable garden”) into their backyard where pumpkins, tomatoes, all kinds of gourds and vegetables were growing vigorously. So, we eventually ended up taking much more back home than we had brought: Six big heirloom tomatoes; three big loofah gourds in another cultivar; and a whole winter melon weighing no less than ten pounds.
“We saved this for you;” at last the hostess took out a bottle gourd, “the trellis looked very pretty when these gourds hung under it. I thought you might like to paint it.”
“Yes I would. Perhaps I can even plant one myself next year.” Overjoyed, I took the gourd.
“Then I will save some seeds for you; and the seeds of our loofah.”
“Yes please, thank you.”
With our four hands fully loaded, and the promise for next year, we left the neighbor’s house.
The issue to a home gardener is: There is always something new to plant; there are always new planting ideas.
Now I just got a full basket of freshly picked cherry tomatoes in the sunroom; six happy loofah gourds are resting in the shade of the boxwood waiting for their turn and more winks on the vines; basils are at the end of their lives eagerly for harvest; garlic chives growing much faster than we can consume...and I have started my fall planting, and the plan for next year’s produce.
Though we are struggling a bit to take full advantage of our vegetables, on the other hand we feel lucky. The harvest season eventually will be gone soon. So when we can enjoy the plentifulness, we should embrace it, appreciate it and keep all the joys in mind. Only after seeing the beauties and possibilities, we can motivate ourselves to go through the tough, barren seasons.
If you happen to pass my house, if you wish to take a bite of home-grown vegetables, if what I have in my garden is what you like/need, please don’t hesitate to stop by, and ring my doorbell. I would like to share them with you, to enjoy Nature’s gifts with you, then one person’s happiness will be doubled, tripled, multiplied—the meaning of our signature embroidery on our garments “Double Happiness”.
Have fun 😁.