Recently, we enjoyed a toasted bagel with cream cheese and red pepper jelly, which was canned from the jalapeno peppers in the garden.
The figs from our tree were jammed and dehydrated for the winter.
We have enjoyed all summer a fresh chop salad of zucchini, tomatoes, cucumbers, yellow bells, onion, avocado and Japanese eggplant (mostly) from the garden.
Two strangers stopped by to visit the house today. Mary Beth was a girl when her grandparents lived here, and she lived in the house next door. She remembers the fig, the olives, and the pomegranate trees. That would conservatively estimate their age at 50+ years, and they are still vigorous producers once they got onto regular routines of fertilizer, water, and love. Unbelievable.
Our guests remembered the land towards the street had a vineyard and a big kitchen garden. The back of the house had a big old screened porch off what used to be a 2br/1ba house with an unfinished attic. The memories just tumbled out of their animated, smiling faces.
Some of the land out back was fenced off for burros. Yup: the kids rode burros. She remembered hearing the rumblings of the farm equipment down the road and how the kids would dash out front to wave at the farmers. Her parents put in the pool the year she went off to college, and there was a bite of nostalgia when she realized it has been here 50 years...
All of this was on our minds as we munched on our first-ever homemade tapenade. The olives had to journey 10 months to our table. We touched it every step of the way: from harvesting them off the trees last November, tending the brine for seven months, and from there into a savory variety of marinades for three months more, and to the table.
House of ours: we are listening.