When we moved up here where it's green, we had visions of bountiful gardens. The year that Violet was born, I would sneak outside to hoe the front yard while she was asleep. I was pretty proud of myself, nursing a baby, wrangling a three-year-old, and digging up a garden plot. The seeds took off like crazy. But then, in the night, the deer came.
The next year, James spent every free sunny day down the hill, clearing dead brush and trees and digging post holes for a fence. As weeks passed, we kept counting the veggies we could still hope to plant and harvest by the end of the season. In July, we gave up.
They were OK, actually, very mild in flavor, which is a good thing for me and greens. They weren't at all stingy, but a little fuzzy, which I wasn't that crazy about. Next time I want to pulverize the hell out of them in a smoothie, then maybe try these noodles, which look amazing.
Because, there will be a next time. We have enough nettles to last all year.
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