Summer Greens Emerge at the Community Garden

It's a gardener's delight this time of year! Community gardens that were bare two months ago are now rich with greens, vegetables, herbs and sunflowers. I am back from a 2+ week culinary tour of Florence, Tuscany and Rome -- more on that below -- and I am eager to see how the garden fares. I drive to Bible Street Community Garden in Cos Cob, CT, with my almost-five grandniece, Ceci. The dirt road is quiet, and we hear only sounds of turkeys and the rustle of hidden fawns. 

I am thrilled to see my garden plot is flourishing. 

The garden goes green, zucchinis blossom,
lushness takes over. Mini-gardener Ceci has a ball

• Arugula heads fill out, mutant radishes call for picking, fresh scallions grow tall, cucumber vines spread, basil takes hold, zucchinis blossom, and tomatoes and peppers reach skyward. 

• Crouching at the edge of the garden bed (the hill towns of Italy took their toll on my knees), I cull weeds, stake the peppers and cucumbers, place metal spirals around the tomatoes and tie up zucchini so stalks grow upward. 

• This is my first year of zucchini, and they are starting to spread and grow blossoms. One zucchini, about four inches, peeks though the stalks. My first! So proud. 

• This year I mixed seedlings bought from the community garden with seedlings grown at home and seeds sown directly in the plot. The community seedlings -- tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini -- are a foot taller than others and looking mature. Home-grown seedlings are not as tall, but they are healthy and catching up. Seed-planted basil stand tall enough so as not to confused with weeds.

I roughly plot out my plantings

The community garden hosts an array of herbs, lettuces, vegetables and flowers. Some gardeners' have tomatoes already forming (yellow flowers show up on mine, so there's hope). Others have sunflowers shooting up (July is the month for sunflowers), bean towers spitting out tendrils, and dill weed running riot. A few gardeners plant their vegetables in crisp rows, like soldiers. Other gardeners plant vegetables wherever space opens up. I am part of the latter camp: I track the items in a rough layout so I can remember what grows where. 

Using my vegetable bag I collect the first crop of the season. I harvest fresh arugula, scallions, basil and radishes and I savor them with freshly milled olive oil and balsamic vinegar brought back from Ravagni in Anghiari, Italy. Delicious! 

Diane and PJ Morello 
in Talamello in Emilia-Romagna

A final note: Our late-spring trip to Italy was filled with cooking classes, pasta making, bread baking and dessert making. For six days we visited hill towns in Tuscany, Emilia-Romagna and Les Marches. We learned how to make tortellini, stuffed olives (to die for), pizza, wine, prosciutto, gelato, olive oil and truffle paste. Best of all, we met other foodies who enjoy cooking, sipping, tasting and traveling as much as we do. If you want to take a culinary trip like this, check out Rustico Cooking for their Italy culinary trips. Micol and Dino are wonderful chefs and trip arrangers. 

Back to community gardening: How are your gardens doing? What veggies are new in your plots? Which veggies or herbs are starting to flower and mature? What's ready to harvest?

Ciao for now! 

-- Your intrepid garden blogger, Diane Tunick Morello 

The Day I Check Out the Late Harvest at the Community Garden

The temperature drops, the bugs disappear and newly planted hardy greens peek through the garden bed's surface dirt. It's mid-October and the temperature plummets 25 to 30 degrees in the past two days, frost is imminent.

Six pepper plants continue to bear fruit,
late-season arugula covers the garden bed

This morning I visit my garden for the first time in a week. I thrill to see September-planted arugula, fragile as micro greens, covering the garden bed. Green cherry tomatoes cling valiantly to dried vines, and with a wistful look, I chop them down and deposit them in the compost bin. Six peppers, five bell and one poblano, enjoy a growth spurt, even as the waning season produces fruit small enough to be served on a dollhouse dining table.

After weeks of seeing almost no one at the garden, I hit the jackpot. Maria, Gary and Mj all arrive to assess the late season harvest. We chat about what we can grow and eat at this time of year, what we will do differently next year and which community service jobs are yet to be done. 

• Maria shares several cloves of organic garlic to plant now for next summer. I dig a six-inch furrow and plant the cloves pointy side up. I am optimistic they will survive winter and be ready for me in July 2019.

• Gary shows me his Chinese long beans and gives me a taste of his mustard green. So biting, with a sharpness similar to horseradish. Love it!

• MaryJo, or Mj, tells me about the plans for the newly erected pergola -- climbers, creepers and vines will be planted in containers, grow upward over the posts and spread over the pergola's top, giving us much-needed relief during hot days, community activities and wine parties. I will be grateful for cool respite in the heart of summer. 

• Community service commitments are coming to a close, and many gardeners have barely scratched the surface of their commitments. I have one half hour remaining of the 10 hours to which I committed. Sweeping, weeding and clearing will wrap that up. I eagerly ask more about Maria's food bank team as I weigh whether to stick with the beautification team or try another volunteer assignment next year.

The Bible Street branch of Greenwich Community Gardens is tucked into the back woods of Greenwich in a neighborhood called Cos Cob. In contrast to the densely populated areas of Greenwich, the garden is peaceful, remote, almost hidden. 

Mama turkey cares for her poults. 
Photo source: 365 Days of Birds

Visiting the garden in spring, a herd of deer race past me into the woods, breaking the silence as they crash through brush and trees. In summer I drive slowly up the hidden driveway and find a female turkey resting quietly in the middle of the drive. As I come close, she lifts her huge body, revealing six to eight babies, or poults, beneath her, quickly marching them into the woods -- a woodland version of a woman with crinolined bustle hiding two to three toddlers beneath the skirt. Early morning I see yellow finches flitting across the garden beds, pecking at the seeds on the glorious sunflowers. Every so often deer and fawns peek out to stare before they disappear into their camouflage.

Fellow gardeners, it's been a glorious year, great fun as I learn to be a community gardener. In the next post I will explore plans for 2019. That said, I need to rename my blog. I have graduated from "Diane's First Community Garden." Ideas welcome! 

Ciao now, Diane Tunick Morello

The Day I Put My Community Garden to Bed for the Season

Hey, all, miss me? It's been a month since I last posted. In August I gave my community garden plot a report card (see The Day My Garden Gets a Late Summer Report Card), and just as I did in school, I discouraged myself. Then I remembered: I am a beginner vegetable gardener. It's all good. I re-energized myself and began to envision my 2019 community garden experiment.

On a cool September morning, I visit the garden at 7:30am to harvest tomatoes and peppers and to see what the rains have wrought. The garden is empty, quiet. Chipmunks leap over plots, finches enjoy the remaining sunflower seeds, tomato plants look peaked and lettuces end their growing season. The garden is bidding adieu for 2018.

To my surprise, two globe tomatoes redden in my plot, and I clip them off to ripen at home and protect them from pesky chipmunks. The cherry tomatoes are split and gnarly. I pull out the vines and cut them into bits for the compost bin. My cucumber and patty-pan vines go, too, neither one truly successful. 

Mid-August radishes are red and deformed but still tasty, and arugula planted at the same time starts to pop up. The biggest surprise is the bell and poblano peppers, which enjoy a late-season growth spurt. I leave them be for now so they can grow. Finally, I sow two lines of arugula seed. I hope to see fresh arugula before the first frost hits. As I leave the garden, I walk beneath a trellis filled with purple morning glories, brightening the day. 

This summer of 2018, I hoped to supply all my own vegetables and not to buy vegetables from green markets or from grocery stores. A tall order for a first-year community gardener and perhaps too high a threshold. In 2019 I will reset expectations and focus on my favorite vegetables: globe tomatoes, arugula, radishes, cucumbers. 

Ciao for now!  
-- Diane Tunick Morello

The Day My Garden Gets a Late Summer Report Card

Hello there, gals and guys, it's mid-August in southwest Connecticut. Two weeks ago the garden was popping with red tomatoes, but as I walk through the plots, I can see the garden in its final ballyhoo. Tomatoes ripen, some so ripe they have dropped on the ground, and the plants appear to be losing green and going gold. Some gardeners are clearing out their plots, leaving tomato vines. 

My 2018 garden plot is a grand and fun experiment, with many highs and many lows. Creating the blog to chronicle my success is a high, but the results in the garden fall short. This week I give my garden a mid-year report card. I discover I am a tough grader. 

• Overall, B
• Effort, A
• Results, C

April through May, grade B

I start eagerly in April. I set up my plot weeks before anyone even arrives at the garden. I string out oblongs of 16 by 24 inches so I have a plan for the seeds, and I scribble the layout on graph paper. I put in radishes, beets arugula, beets, parsley, carrots and beans. 

By mid-May I harvest my first red globe radishes and crisp green arugula. After that, however, neither comes back. What I do not learn at the appropriate time is the urgency of mixing the old soil with newly composted soil and black-gold before planting, something that a beginner’s gardening program could have solved. By the time I discover how important compost is, green seedlings are already starting to surface in my plot.

• Parsley and radishes, B
• Arugula, C
• Beets, carrots, beans, F

Lessons learned from this period in my garden: 

• Only after I lay out the string plot and plant the first seeds do I learn that I should have turned over my garden with black-gold soil before planting.   
• A mentoring program for new community gardeners would be valuable. Otherwise, first-year gardeners fly by the seat of their pants. A mentor would underscore the necessity of using composted soil before planting.

May through end-July, grade C

From mid-May through early June, I plant the vegetables I want. I add four tomato seedlings to my plot and find two other cherry tomatoes growing as volunteers. I add six bell pepper plants and one poblano, which yield fruit quickly, then stop. My cucumbers blossom and produce three pickle-size cucumbers, then stop. My bush beans start out strong, then get overshadowed and stop. My four patty-pan squashes blossom beautifully, but yield nothing, nada, zilch. Meanwhile, a nearby plot overflows with patty-pans. As for the carrots, the fronds consume too much space and the carrots that I test are anemic and chemical tasting, despite being non-GMO organic seeds. I lack the patience for carrots, I suspect.

• Tomatoes, A
• Peppers and basil, B
• Cucumbers, D
• Carrots and patty-pan squash, F

Lessons learned from this period in my community garden: 

• Two of six tomato plants are full size tomatoes. Of the full tomatoes, one variety yields gnarled, mutant fruits and the other yields perfectly round fruit. I will exchange cherries next year for full size tomatoes. 
• The tomato plants become a Hydra, with vines and branches growing in all directions and encircling and overshadowing beans and peppers. 

First half of August, grade C

The most conspicuous aspect of August 2018 is rain — torrential downpours and late-afternoon storms. The gardens are soppy and messy, and the vegetables take poorly to rain and clouds. I head to the garden at least every other day, returning with fresh basil and tomatoes both big and small. Cherry tomatoes are tart, and their skin start to split. The full-size tomatoes are delicious, and I bring home more than a dozen. I want more. 

I stare at the garden plot, wondering what I can do differently. I yank out carrot fronds, replant arugula and radishes, and try a few bean plants, the last of which quickly succumb to insects. My last visit two days ago suggests that the full tomatoes are nearing their end. Whether the green fruit will ripen remains uncertain.

Lessons learned from this period in my community garden: 

• Reconfigure the garden so the vegetables -- in my case, peppers and beans -- do not get overshadowed by the tomatoes.  
• Swap out cherry tomatoes and bring in more full-size tomatoes.

Community spirit experience, grade B

Community spirit is a big reason to join a community garden. Everyone I meet in the garden is invariably kind, but I meet comparatively few people over five months, despite nearly ninety neighboring plots. Community service hours, visiting horticulturists and potluck dinners help to get people talking, but only if they happen frequently and with greater involvement. 

A couple ideas come to mind to increase community spirit:

• Schedule (bi)weekly drop-in sessions between new and experienced gardeners to analyze progress during the season. 
• Pull together small mentoring teams to meet regularly throughout the season to jump-start successes and increase camaraderie.
• Share vegetables and herbs among gardeners. Yes, many gardeners give vegetables to food banks, but I am more interested in food swaps with other gardeners to taste new vegetables and learn what works.
• Think about a community spirit ambassador to experiment with the ideas.   

Final comments

• I am looking forward to my 2019 community garden plan. Besides tomatoes, I plan to plant peppers, herbs, radishes and arugula. Of the vegetables that got an F grade, I need to identify which ones I want (cucumbers, yes, carrots, no) and what else I should try (zucchini, eggplant).   
• What should I be planting now for fall or spring? I hear about garlic, leek, onion and scallion. Ideas?

Fellow community gardeners, how do you grade your 2018 community garden? What vegetables got top grades? What do you wish you did differently? Share your best tactics or lessons learned in the comments section.

Ciao for now, Diane Tunick Morello

The Glory Days of Tomatoes Arrive!

OK, I fess up. Since I signed up to cultivate a community garden plot at Greenwich Community Gardens, I focused on tomatoes -- big, small, yellow, red, ripe, unripe. At last the tomatoes came in, and I am doing a happy dance. My husband and I bite into tomato-stacked BLTs. We savor fresh tomato salads with garlic, salt, basil and onions (he adds bread to his to make panzanella). And today I make a salad of my fresh-grown tomato and scallion for breakfast, starting out my day perfectly.

I decide to make something special with my dozens of cherry tomatoes. I hunt in my recipe folder for a cherry tomato tart that I found in People magazine in late March. I squirreled away the recipe back then, and today I dig in to make the recipe.
 

I ripen dozens of cherry tomatoes in paper bags on the counter, hand-select the brightest cherries, pack them into a pie shell, cover them with parmesan and egg concoction, then bake at 375 degrees, adding another 4-5 minutes under the broiler to brown the cheese and tomatoes. The tart is delicious, the roasted cherries bursting with flavor and juice! Next time, I will forgo the crust and instead make a crustless quiche filled with cherry tomatoes, ample cheese and a side of asparagus.

My garden is overflowing with small and big tomatoes, and I go in search of help. My great-niece Ceci — wearing a Girls Rule T-shirt — answers my call for a super-hero helper. With her four-year-old enthusiasm, she carries the bag to collect the vegetables, acts as a spotter for the ripening cherry tomatoes and carefully twists off the big tomatoes. She then takes charge of watering the roots and tomatoes so the garden stays healthy. As we walk through the garden, looking at the other beds, she eagerly introduces herself to new people she meets, reeling off her first name and her last name. Her visit and willingness to be my helper give me naches -- pride and joy, for those of you who want to learn Yiddish. I'll invite her to pitch in again before her pre-school starts. 



Before I leave the garden, I take stock again of the vegetables. The tomatoes are bountiful, and the basil is getting big. On the other hand, my seven pepper trees are unimpressive, producing only four peppers since I planted them. Same with my cucumber plant, which produces only three pickle-size cukes. And my long-awaited patty-pan squash plants blossom lavishly, but yield no squash. Curses!

I keep on, however. Based on Alan Gorkin's visit to the community garden two weeks ago, I plant a series of late summer vegetables -- Tavera beans, Blue Lake bush beans, radishes and arugula. I also keep planting scallions rooted at home, and today I plant a rooted fennel. We'll see if they can tolerate the remaining summer heat and grow out before our first frost.

Community gardeners: 

• What do you make with your tomatoes? 

• How do you take advantage of your bounty? 

• What other vegetables grow abundantly? 

• What will you do differently next year?

A reminder: This blog gets picked up locally in Connecticut, gets shared with friends and family through Facebook and Google+ and gets retweeted on the Twitter feed of NYC Community Gardens. Join the conversation! -- Diane Tunick Morello

The Day I Plant Late-Summer Seeds and Rip Out Poor Performers

Alan Gorkin, organic gardening
expert, gives us the rundown
on his own community garden bed  

I am impatient with my community garden. While the tomatoes grow prolifically -- I even pulled off two big red tomatoes today -- the other vegetables do not fare well. The cucumber hybrid bush, which looked healthy two weeks ago, today looks beat. Carrots produce nothing but fronds and weedy stalks. Bell peppers grow flowers but produce no new fruit. And the pattypan squash colorfully throw off blossoms, but yield no squash. What gives? What's next? Experienced gardeners, what do you do at this stage of your summer garden? 


On an overcast and humid Sunday, Alan Gorkin, organic gardening expert at Sleepy Cat Farms in Greenwich, visits the Bible Street branch of Greenwich Community Gardens. He walks us through which vegetables can be replaced and which can be newly planted. 

With his advice in my head, this morning at 7am I head to the garden and clear out frond-ridden carrots. Three months after planting carrot seeds, only one in five carrots are orange. The others are long, stringy and anemic. With the carrots stripped from the garden, I plant red-globe radishes, taverna green beans, blue lake bush beans and red beets. Still to come are arugula seeds and lettuces, which should tolerate the heat and deliver leaves through September. 

Tomatoes -- abbondanza!

As we near August, I make a few decisions to prepare for next year:

• No carrots. Carrots occupy too much space and yield inconsistent results. I see few carrots elsewhere in the community garden, so my decision appears to be prudent.
• Plant peppers on the opposite side of the garden from the tomatoes. Tomatoes grow well, but they block the sun. The peppers work too hard.
• Plant big tomatoes in the community garden. I planted four tomato plants -- two big tomatoes, two cherries -- and I inherited two "volunteer" cherry tomato plants from a neighboring plot or a previous gardener. Big tomatoes fit on BLTs better than cherries.
• Plant the pattypan squashes early. I followed the instructions on the seed packet and planted the pattypans in early June. The squash plants are blossoming, but I see no squash. Suggestions, anyone?

By the way, readers, this blog gets picked up locally in Connecticut, gets shared with friends and family through Facebook and Google+ and gets retweeted on the Twitter feed of NYC Community Gardens. Join the conversation and invite others to join. Speak to you soon. 

The Day I Get Schooled in Food Waste

We hear people talk about food waste, but the magnitude of that waste is beyond comprehension. On Thursday evening, a group of Greenwich community gardeners went to Stone Barns Center in Tarrytown, NY, to learn more about food waste. In the United States, roughly 40% of the food we produce gets wasted. Much of that wasted food goes not to human beings, animals or compost. It goes to landfill, where it produces methane, worsens green-house gases and hurts our planet.

Inverted food-waste pyramid,
created by National Resources Defense Council

On the agenda at Stone Barns was a showing of the documentary “Wasted: The Story of Food Waste” -- directed by Nari Kye and Anna Chai and produced and narrated by Anthony Bourdain (sob). At the core of the film is the inverted food-waste pyramid, a simple model that suggests how we can avoid and manage food waste. From top to bottom: 

• Reduce the amount of food we buy. 
• Use excess or imperfect food to feed hungry people.
• Use food waste not suited for human beings for animals and livestock.
• Convert remaining food waste into compost and renewable energy.
• As a last resort, dispose of food waste in landfills.

Two things have raised my consciousness about food waste: one, a food regimen to make and keep me healthy, and two, my community garden. The food regimen leads me to properly portioned fresh food, often bought at green markets. The community garden encourages me not only to grow my own food, but also to save scraps for the compost system at Greenwich Community Gardens. 

I deposit a fair amount of scraps in my small food bin at home every day. Six months ago, those scraps would have gone into the trash can and be sent to landfill. Baby steps, I tell myself. I am not extravagant in food purchasing or consumption, but I can do better using and reusing vegetables and fruits. Equally important, I can make an impact on food waste by reducing what I buy or consume. If I reduced by 25% to 30% the food I made, bought or ate, I venture I still would be healthy and well fed. 

I close with three points:

• "Wasted: The Story of Food Waste" was an uncomfortable wake-up call. It would be easy to say that little-bitty I cannot make a difference in mitigating this global challenge. But I am not powerless: By reducing food consumption and reusing and regenerating food waste, I can make a difference.  
• I want to know what you do about food waste. Community gardeners, how do you avoid it? Manage it? Add stories, tips and techniques to my blog. 
• As I left Stone Barns last evening, I met an artist I admire immensely: Julie Taymor, the director and visionary behind Lion King on Broadway. As she made her way to  Blue Hill Restaurant at Stone Barns, I stopped her, introduced myself and conveyed how much I admire her imagination and inventiveness. Meeting Julie Taymor was a bonus for the evening.

Ciao for now!

As Vegetables Emerge, So Do Community Gardeners

I typically head to the community garden about 7am. The temperature is comfortable, the humidity low, and the sun manageable. But at that hour, I seldom see other gardeners. This past week, I decide to mix it up. One day I visit at 7:30am, another at 9:30am and another at 11am. I meet a dozen new gardeners. As vegetables come out and summer temperatures rise, gardeners come more frequently to pick their harvest and to water their plots. And when community gardeners meet, conversation ensues about tips and techniques, tastings, successes and lessons learned. Exactly the community spirit I want. 

Rosemary stands by her prolific borage and dill 

One morning I introduce myself to Rosemary, who gives me a lesson in bees. Rosemary has gardened at Bible Street community garden since its launch. Her plot is filled with borage and dill, both big and tall. As I stand at Rosemary's garden bed, I see dozens of bees flitting industriously from one leaf or stem to another on the borage and dill. The borage attracts bees, which pollinate the vegetables, herbs and flowers in Rosemary's garden and then move on to other garden beds. (Yay, bees!) 

I am curious about borage, and I am not alone. I find a full report on Hunter Angler Gardener Cook, with the author using borage in pesto, chimichurri, soup and stuffed ravioli. As for the tall dill in Rosemary's garden, I ask whether I can clip a few stalks. That night I poach salmon for dinner, cover it with fresh dill and douse it with lemon. Yummy. 

One day I meet Cheryl, who bikes to the community garden from her house 15 miles round trip. Cheryl shares sprigs of oregano with me, and I use them in a tomato salad, a flavor different than the customary basil. Cheryl's community garden plot complements her home garden and help her grow tomatoes, peppers and herbs away from nibbling critters at home. 

I meet my garden neighbors Irene and Lisa for the first time since I planted my garden bed in April. I learn that they water my plot whenever they water their own (thank you, you two). This is their second year of community gardening -- they are experienced gardeners in my newbie eyes -- and their plot is filled with squash, peppers, eggplant, tomato and "volunteer" sunflowers, which are now 10 feet tall. 

Mixing it up is my new mantra, visiting at different times and introducing or reintroducing myself to people I see. It makes the wait for the harvest worth it. 

I close with two comments: 

Your intrepid blogger, watering again
and protected against the sun

• I ask gardeners to walk me through their plots, and I invite them to visit mine. I love the knowledge and advice they offer. Rosemary, for example, urges me to harvest my green peppers and pickle-size cucumbers now. I savor the tasty vegetables that I might otherwise lose to chipmunks.
  
• At least two-thirds of the gardeners I meet at Greenwich Community Gardens are women. Is that normal across community gardens? At the Greenwich Botanical Center, where I volunteer, the proportion leans even more heavily toward women. What are your experiences? Comments? 

Ciao until the next post. Diane Tunick Morello

When Community Spirit Goes Hand in Hand with Community Service

Two cherry tomatoes ripen
in my community garden. 
But then I ate them.

Whew! We have quite a hot spell in Greenwich, CT. Temperatures climb above 90 degrees daily and a couple days they hit almost 100 degrees. At my community garden bed, I pluck two orange cherry tomatoes from my plants. I'll savor them later. (Another lesson learned: Pick tomatoes when they are ripe. Patience!)

Whereas my cherry tomatoes enjoy the heat, I do not. I have trepidation about fulfilling hours of community service in such extreme heat. Staying inside seems safer and more prudent than working outside in searing temperatures. But I am intrepid, so at eight in the morning on Independence Day, I head to Armstrong Court community garden to pitch in on beautification work.

Diane Tunick Morello, Ann Shifman-Deibler
and Clare Bolduc (l-r)

The mission today is to strip stubborn vines, weeds and branches from the fence surrounding the garden. The vines are impressive. They coil upward five to ten feet, form choke-holds around apple trees and shrubs and snake into the wood chips of the community garden. As we work, Clare, Ann and I chat about our garden beds, our lives in Fairfield County and our experiences with the community gardening spirit. Without a doubt, conversation makes the heat feel less oppressive and helps the job go quickly.

The next day I head to the Bible Street community garden for late-day weeding as part of the beautification team. I pass a (blurry) deer munching happily in the bushes as I drive down the dirt road. When I enter the gate of the garden, on the other hand, I feel as if I am walking into a wall of heat and humidity. 

The beautification work at this garden is tough. Seven or eight of us kneel and squat to remove weeds from the gravel surrounding the raised garden beds. Thankfully, conversation makes the work tolerable (um, cold water would be great). We introduce ourselves -- new gardeners and seasoned gardeners alike -- share our community garden experiences and check out the harvests in our respective garden plots. A few people tell me they read the blog, which makes me a happy camper.

My takeaway from this week's community service is simple: Community spirit -- a chief reason to sign up for the community garden experience -- pervades the work we perform, regardless of the nature of the work. It lifts us up and makes the hard work easier to handle. That said, next time I'll be looking for less back-breaking work. Ciao for now! 

The Dog Days Arrive at My First Community Garden

Morning, everyone!
Diane Tunick Morello here

The dog days of summer arrive. With temperatures forecast to climb over 90 degrees today, I pack my coffee, garden stakes, water and rooted scallions and head to the Bible Street community garden first thing in the morning. 

Seven o'clock is the perfect time to visit the garden. I am curious to see whether Thursday's torrential downpours caused damage. Glad to say, no. I want to wrap up by eight o'clock -- before the heat takes over and before I head to the Families Belong Together rally at Greenwich Town Hall on June 30.

Here's what's happening in the garden: 

• Tomatoes thrive, with strong stalks, lots of yellow flowers and small and midsize fruit popping. Thinning out the stalks on Tuesday helped. Two "volunteer" tomato plants -- remnants of the previous gardener -- display flowers and produce fruit. My husband, PJ, was so impressed with the tomatoes throughout the community garden he now looks forward to getting his own plot new year.

Green bell pepper emerges

• The jalapeño pepper seems to have grown six to eight inches in five days, thanks to reorienting the tomato plants and opening the pepper to sun. I see no fruit yet on the jalapeño, but two big fruit emerge on the bell peppers.

• Oh, the carrot fronds, what to do, what to do. The fronds tower over plants and herbs, cutting off their light and air. Chop-chop go the fronds, yank go the wandering carrots. The plants and herbs now get sun.

• Cucumber and patty-pan squash flourish as they reach to the sun. Tiny basils, planted as seeds in mid-May, are starting to emerge from the soil. Meanwhile, basil seedlings I got from Garden Education Center of Greenwich fare well, strengthening and growing taller.

• Only one plant fares poorly, my green beans. A week ago a gardener suggested I remove the wire frame from the bush beans. When I did, the beans came up with the frame. I tried to replant and reattach, but I fear I caused irreparable damage to the fragile beans.  

Before I leave the garden, I water my plot and Maud's plot. I met Maud on my first day and I have enjoyed seeing her garden flourish, filled with plants so different from mine.   

Early morning sun illuminates the green
at the Bible Street branch
of Greenwich Community Gardens

The 92 plots in the community garden are lush and healthy. A treat of being a community gardener is wandering around and seeing plants in other plots. Early sun glints off hundreds of tomato plants throughout the community, the sunflowers rise, the lettuces grow a foot or so and the peas and beans climb hand-made ladders. I expect to visit the garden possibly three or four times a week in these dog days of summer, watering, thinning and harvesting. I look forward to meeting other gardeners, admiring their plants and maybe sharing tips and tastes of what they have grown. 

As I head to Families Belong Together in Greenwich during the same week we honor Independence Day, I thank my grandparents for having the courage roughly one hundred years ago to emigrate from Poland, Russia and Austria and build their futures -- and my parents' future and my future -- in America. We all yearn to breathe free. 

Our Statue of Liberty:
"Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled massesyearning to breathe free."