Summertime Lull

Hurry up and wait. That is how I'm feeling right now. I thought the gardenboxes would never arrive this spring, but they did, and now everything is big and growing and all I have to do is wait. I'm not good at waiting. I have tons of tomatoes--still green, mountains of melon--still small, a bunch of beans--almost there, but not quite. The eggplant and peppers still have a ways to go. The last cabbage has been picked, we're beyond tired of lettuce, you can only eat so many onions in a week, and the zucchini is already zonking out. Hurry up and wait. I don't sit well. I'm a gardener between harvests without much gardening to do. . . and it just feels wrong. (OK, I guess I could weed the flower beds.) I won't say I miss needing the tiller or the hoe, but it does feel strange to have nothing to do but fill the water reservoirs every evening. I'm ready to harvest that first ripe tomato and share them with friends and neighbors! I'm ready for tomato and mozzarella salad, fresh homemade salsa, and plain ol' tomatoes eaten from the hand warm from the garden. Hurry up and wait, and wait and wait...