My cabbage is heading up. I had a bad case of cabbage envy last January when I discovered that my neighbor with the bees, chickens, and the dog named Chance, had grown a winter vegetable garden. His cabbage were the most beautiful I had ever seen because I’m a fan of those dark green leaves that you never see in the grocery store.
Not particularly fond of cabbage, he gave me a few and I kept going back for more while promising to grow my own in the fall. Other than lettuce and bunching onions, I had not attempted a fall garden because Momma said it wasn’t worth the bother. I should have known. She’s been famously wrong before. She couldn’t have possibly been more wrong about the spelling of Wednesday back when I was a first grader.
Following my neighbor’s example, I now have bok choy, broccoli, cherry tomatoes, Chinese cabbage, collards, onions, radishes, radicchio, shallots, sweet potatoes, turnips and cabbage in my garden.
I first told a close friend about my cabbage heading up and she asked, “Do they head up by themselves?” I don’t know what she thought I could do if the cabbage failed to cooperate. Point a gun down the row of cabbage and bark, “Head up or else?”
Her question and a few of my own batty questions sent out to the internet demonstrate just how far we have separated ourselves from our food.