Vegetable Gardens

I live in an apartment. Most people understand the irritations that come from apartment living...nosy neighbors, cigarette smoke drifting into the doorway, and trying to find a place to wash your car. I could deal with all of these things if it wasn't for the worse of it all; the inability to have my own vegetable garden. Most young girls think of how they'll decorate their new house. What is the color scheme? What type of dishes should I buy to match the decor in the kitchen? How should I arrange the furniture? But not me. 

I don't remember much from my childhood. But one of my best childhood memories grew in a vegetable garden. I was young and innocent. It was a warm and sunny day; a great day to be outside away from the noise of the world on the television. I found myself lost in among the rows and rows of various vegetables and fruits. This was one of the largest gardens I've ever been in. It was Apa's garden. Apa is grandfather in Hungarian. He was a strong man at that time; different than today, stricken by the difficulties of age. Dark, thick hair hung in his face as the sweat beaded on his forehead from the hard work. He was always a strong man to me and ate like he was in the old country once again. With one fare swoop he could pick us up and we always felt safe. 

You could tell he was working hard as he dug into the ground further on in the garden. I knelt down by the rows of strawberries. My little knees left imprints in the dirt and I didn't mind because I was so enthralled by the strawberries. They were amazing in color; bright red and shining in the sunlight. Apa taught me how to pick them properly. He explained which ones were just right to harvest. It was my job to pick them and he moved on to other garden duties leaving me there. I was set on doing a good job because I knew all too well that homemade strawberry shortcake was imminent. My basket was only half full and even if I wanted to carry it back to the house I wouldn't be able. It was too heavy for me to carry, but I didn't worry I knew Apa would come to my rescue. To this day I've never seen strawberries such as those. They were as big as my fist and tasted sweeter than any dessert could. Now I know I was little at the time, but even for my parents and grandparents that sat around the table later that evening the size of the strawberries was still immense. I saw the intricate nature of the strawberry plant as I picked. It was hard work but I loved every minute of it. 

I wasn't sure what time it was or how long we'd been out there but I knew we were done when Apa turned around, wiped the sweat from his brow, and started heading toward me. He grabbed the basket and we headed toward the house. I ran all the way there to meet my grandma who was waiting for us. What was to follow was the best homemade strawberry shortcake you'd ever had. I remember my whole family was there. I didn't say much, but everyone else did. I was focused on the fruits of my labor formed in a decadent but delicate dessert. Despite that I also noticed the tomatoes in a round colorful bowl next to me. Apa had been working on the tomatoes that afternoon. I picked one up and held it in my hands. It took both hands to hold the tomato and even then it was larger and spilled over the sides of my fingers. These were tomatoes you only needed one slice for on a sandwich. I noticed the aroma of the tomato was strong and unmatched as I put it back in the bowl. That large bowl still only held about three or four tomatoes at a time. I don't know what his secrets were, but he must have brought them from the old country. He knew his way around a vegetable garden.

Nowadays the garden is overgrown and lost in among the weeds. Apa is too old now to work in the garden, but every time I drive down the driveway I see the garden in the distance and remember fondly the time spent there. And so...my love of vegetable gardens was planted and nurtured right there. I want to create my own memories but apartment living isn't conducive to a vegetable garden...at least not the one I have already planted in my mind..