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Way down yonder in the pawpaw patch
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I don’t know about you, but September snuck up on me. It seems like just yesterday it was April. You’d think all this heat would have successfully pointed out to my brain that we are not moving from April to May, but rather August to September. But you’d be wrong.
Fortunately calendars exist to keep me on track.
Speaking of keeping track of time, reminder: We will be CLOSED on Labor Day (this Monday, September 5th)
We’re getting into the last round of summer crops and the first rounds of fall crops.
New plantings of squash and cucumbers are in. We just started picking from the last planting of tomatoes this week. Okra is winding down. Okra is funny in that the plant will look beautiful one day and the next decide it is done for the season. No ifs, ands, buts, or maybes. Right now about half of our okra has decided it’s kaput for the year while the other half is still bright and beautiful.
Pumpkins are starting to roll in; they obviously believe it’s okay to wear white after Labor Day. I personally believe in never wearing white, no matter the relation to Labor Day. But far be it from me to tell the pumpkins what to wear. The larger pumpkins should start coming in next weekend, including the heirloom (fun looking) pumpkins.
The fall fruits are all starting – apples, plums, pears, grapes, figs, and… pawpaws. Yep, we’ve just started picking the pawpaws on Thursday. Pawpaws are the largest fruit native to North America. It looks a bit like a mango and has peach-mango-banana-ish taste and texture. And huge coin-like seeds. Our trees are still pretty young (planted them 7 years ago), so we’re still working up to having a significant harvest.
We keep the orchard (moderately) tidy, but left to themselves, wild pawpaws will form large thickets of trees. Up until the mid-1900s, it was common to see boys and girls picking wild pawpaws in nearby forests to make jams and puddings. Giving us context to the folksong lyrics:
Some seasonal inspiration:
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