You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone

Lately I've had the "I dream of genie" theme song running through my head as an earworm. It's not a bad tune, a bit monotonous though.

The last few weeks have found me away from the computer and caught up sorting through the seasonal mongo. For example, this last weekend, I was out in the garden, looking for any treasures that may still be eatable. Having not had the hard frost that usually around this time of year, we pulled out another three cucs (we're at 100 + for the year already). There's still Swiss chard, a second pumpkin, cabbages that never headed, hidden potatoes and pole beans that are too woody to eat, but should dry nicely and serve as seed for others next year.

And, then there's the fabled marshmallow plants that haven't bloomed, but must be very close. You see, last year a friend of mine dropped off a stock of Brussels sprouts. The sprouts were damned good. Fresh, tasty and just the right amount of skunkiness to off set a bit of lemon juice. Mmm mmm good.

The stock hung around our indoor compost bin for a few days and was making it's way outside when I got a foolish idea. The kids were coming home after a week at their other home, and, well, I guess I was feeling a bit giddy. I took the stock, embellished it with a few baby marshmallows and planted the stock amongst the potatoes.

As a side note, earlier this summer, their local grandparental unit had dropped off a Peeps import - Stars and Stripes marshmallow treats (though I could be mistaken with Little Debbie's products). Child unit 3 had decidedly had enough and pitched it to the ground to bake into the asphalt when I came across it and planted it in the garden. I had told one of the neighbor child units "If we're lucky, we'll get a marshmallow plant". I think it was one of the few times child-unit 1 actually listened to what I was saying and later held me too it, checking in on the status of the plant.

Sooo, this time, when the kids got home, I pointed out the plant and they swooped down like vultures. That thing was picked clean in seconds leaving the barren stock. Child-unit one, clearly not having my gullibility gene looked at the stock and started commenting about the lack of root system. I think I went into some baffling cow manure about hydroponics plants at the time. Enough to confuse the mind of any scientifically advanced eight year old.

So, now it's a year later. I've not been able to replicate the stock results and I cannot find any one who has planted the base stock delicacy. I have loose-leaved cabbage that may have to do this year. I wonder if I could entice my friends over at Artistic Enhancement Creations to give me a hand with this one ...