A rather unremarkable cliffhanger finds satisfactory resolution here, as our cucamelon harvest has been as robust as anything else this summer (which is to say less than expected, but by the end we would take anything as a success). It’s been a wildly inconsistent summer, and quite frankly I gave up on everything halfway through it. Now that it’s harvest time, it all feels a little anticlimactic. The Anti-Climax, now that’s a song Taylor Swift needs to record, and I hope she puts some cucamelon into it.
These little cucumbers look just like baby watermelons, and in the pics that will follow, I’ll scoop some up to give you some perspective on how small they actually are. Their taste is on the tart and sour side, which I happen to enjoy because I’m nothing if not tart and sour. Nobody brings out my sweet side now – that Alan can’t come to the phone anymore – ask Taylor.
And so, in my hands rest little globules of tartness bordering on bitter, deceptively adorable, misleadingly cute, and tempting for all the wrong reasons. Try some, eat one… said the witch.
Witches can be right… giants can be good…
