At this time of year, the amateur garden is drying up in the Atlanta heat.  It’s time to:

  • untangle the shriveled cucumber vines (we had a good run)
  • toss the half-eaten tomato carcasses over the back fence (dang you, squirrels)
  • console the squash (better luck next year, buddies)
  • snack on the strawberry (literally, there was a single, sad berry this season)
  • honor the noble eggplant

I learned you can’t break an eggplant.  The infant seedlings barely made it when I scrambled to get them in the ground, and a late frost came. The young adult plants got fried from fertilizing.  The early career plants fell over-hard with every good rain.  The middle-aged plants bore gorgeous fruit even with leaves poached by bugs.  The aging plants are now ready to be cracked into the compost.  

If eggplant is willing to roll with me again next year, I’ll be a little more over-easy on them.