We took a little garden tour last night so I could see how all of the veggies are doing.  The veggie garden is pretty solidly in Scottland (not to be confused with Scotland, which is a long way away), so I don’t get out there every day.  It was pretty fun as far as at-home post-work adventures go.

The tour started off with a glass of cold milk.  My parents sent me the glass as a present after their recent trip to France, and I love it.  I’m not entirely sure what Mueh Cola is, because the websites that talk about it are all in French.  The cow is awesome regardless.  (Is it one of Peanut’s cows?)

And then there were blueberries from the freshly planted blueberry bush.  I liked the colors a lot.  The blue ones are all in our respective stomachs now.  It was an eating tour of the garden.

Then there was a spaghetti squash sighting.  Yay!  We didn’t eat anything at that stop.  That will require at least a week-long wait and some time in the oven.  It was still nice to see the veggies growing.  I actually had to look this guy up to make sure it was really spaghetti squash, which is sad.  It looks yellow and slightly different in the store, but sure enough, that’s spaghetti squash home veggie garden-style.

We also have miscellaneous squash plants that either A) sprouted from last year’s plants in random spots throughout the garden, or B) came up from seeds in our compost.  They’re super healthy plants, but we don’t quite know what to expect vegetable-wise.  Zucchini?  Yellow summer squash?  Something totally random from the compost?  It’ll be a surprise.

And finally, on the home stretch to the kitchen and the real eating of the evening:

Sure, it’s getting dark, and the picture quality isn’t great.  But check out that rose bush!  It’s growing on a trellis to the left of the path.  We cut it back several feet in September.  Then we cut it back several feet in November.  And again in March or April.  This beast just won’t stop growing!  There were no rose branches extending anywhere near the path a month ago.  Craziness, I say.  Craziness.

(Yes, that’s Scott at the top of the stairs telling me that dinner is ready and I’d better get myself inside or risk cold salmon.  I said, “Yes sir, no more pictures, sir.”  You should always be nice to the cook.  Dinner was good.)