Finish Your Meal

                This title should more accurately be entitled “Finish your dinner!”, that is, if it were directed toward me. I know that I have brought this up before, but since all of… life’s events reoccur endlessly, I will bring this one up again as well. As for the decree for me to “finish my dinner!”… well, here it is… again…

                One of my most vivid memories as a child growing up on the property on which I currently organically farm, is one that involves vegetables, albeit NOT organically grown, and specifically one, by the name of kohlrabi, that I still cannot force myself to grow to this day! I cannot remember how old I was, but by my calculations, I must have been somewhere between 5 and 8 years old. The situation revolved around the kitchen table, which we actually used as a family dining center in those archaic days (circa 1974-1977). My parents had a couple of gardens on the property, which now are labeled Field 1 and Field 3 for organic certification purposes, and they admirably attempted to grow as much produce as possible to feed their family of six. (Not to mention free child labor.)

                Unfortunately, they decided one year to grow… kohlrabi. Now, I have to pause here, because kohlrabi is considered a delicacy in many parts of the world, in particular Europe, where the crop has been cultivated over the centuries. The problem was that my parents knew nothing about kohlrabi, and grew it to a large size. Bigger is better! In regards to kohlrabi, that is anything but the case. Instead of a delectable cole crop, my parents harvested what amounted to be the same texture as freshly hewn timber. It was that pulpy… and indigestible. But to proceed past this introductory story, I was provided a portion of that un-chewable fiber known otherwise as kohlrabi on my plate of food and was not allowed to leave the dinner table until I had finished my meal, er, dinner… To skip to the end of that horrid memory, the kohlrabi was not eaten, and I went straight to bed sometime long after dark.

                The preceding was just an introductory story to this entry. The point is… finish eating your meal! In regards to this entry, this is directed to, in particular, the many rabbits that have descended upon the farm this year. Again, I am fully aware that this gripe has been brought up before in the past, but since the situation has not changed, well, neither has this gripe! Hey, rabbits, finish your meal!!!

                I present exhibit A:

                The issue that I bring forward for display is how rabbits, for these are the foul critters on trial in this entry, will nibble on… a tomato, as displayed above, and then move along… Apparently, what the rabbit is not aware of is that once a tomato is “nibbled on” it is no longer of any use to a farmer, and the farmer, of course, is the most important entity here. Beyond this, the rabbit will, and this has been the case in all the crops “nibbled on” by rabbits, “nibble on” multiple other fruits as well. In the case of tomatoes, the rabbit cannot see a delicious, juicy, ripe… as in the picture above… Brandywine tomato and devour the entire thing to quell its appetite… most assuredly, for days. No, it will only nip at it here and there just enough to make it worthless in the realm of human commerce. AND THEN, they will do the same to the next tomato they encounter! And that is why I am so adamant when I state… FINISH YOUR MEAL!!! Seriously! If you ate the whole tomato, you would be satisfied for a month… rabbits!

                Ugh.  To top all this frustration off, I have a human inspired issue here as well. This one is a little more difficult to relate, but here goes… I have this symptom whereby music constantly… resonates in my brain. Usually, this music is something of my own creation as it would seem, but sometimes, a song from a recorded artist or artists will arise… and get locked into my thinking mechanism, if you will. So, now, every time I witness a “nipped” tomato, for example, a terrible old Van Halen song reverberates through my brain… “Come on, baby, finish what ya started…”

                Ugh. Again. What a terrible song that is! And I am not referring to musicianship at this point. Eddie Van Halen’s guitar work in particular is superb as usual. It is the lyrics! Egad! When I hear a song, lyrics are ALWAYS the most important part of the piece for me. That is why Bob Dylan ranks very high on my list of admirable musicians… (I guess poet fits more aptly). Here is a verse from Bob Dylan’s “It’s All Right Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”:  “Disillusioned words like bullets bark, as human gods aim for their marks, made everything from toy guns that spark, to flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark, it’s easy to see without looking too far that not much is really sacred.” Wow!

                Now to that annoying song that keeps reverberating In my head… “Come on, baby, finish what ya… “(Yes, “ya” is actually the lyric.)”…started, I’m incomplete, huh! That ain’t no way to treat the broken hearted. I need some sympathy…” I apologize for writing all this out… but I could not get that song out of my head! I kept wondering how it could linger in mind so long, when I don’t ever remember listening to it intentionally!

                So anyway, I would be in say, the carrot row…

                Exhibit B:

…and witness the rabbit damage… “Come on, baby, finish what ya started…”

Then I would be in the cantaloupe row…

Exhibit C:

…”Come on, baby, finish what ya started…”

And the purple bean row…

Exhbit D:

…”Come on…”

I will not type that line again. At least here, far removed from the fields and the rabbit damage I can turn that annoying song off! And one last thought on that song and its pathetic lyrics… I looked up who wrote the lyrics and the answer… Van Halen. Was that really a collective effort? If I was in that band and had nothing to do with the lyrics, I would assert, “No, really, you can take full credit for the lyrics,” to whoever penned those…

But back to the real issue of this entry. Hey, rabbits, if you would only finish your meal… well, we would not have an issue. The situation is something akin to Goldilocks and the three bears. Why do you have to try ALL of the porridge? (And porridge is a bad example, but I digress.)  Seriously, and I mean this, SERIOUSLY, if you would eat ONE tomato and devour it, you will be satisfied. If you eat ONE cantaloupe, you will be satisfied. If you eat ONE carrot, well, you will have to learn how to dig for that one… and ONE bean… surely won’t satisfy you… UGH!!!