Of Melons and Memories

Last night we picked our very first watermelon from our garden! We have been waiting and waiting for it to ripen. Every day, all the kids and I march down to the garden (which is, by necessity, at the very farthest corner from the door as it could be) and check on our watermelon. It is a variety of ice-box watermelon called Sugar Baby, which is a very popular small heirloom variety. It's called "ice-box" because it will actually fit in the refrigerator. We have only one vine, which I am actually growing up a trellis as an experiment because it requires so much less space. I first read about that in Square Foot Gardening by Mel Bartholemew and it's going well so far. One melon did crash to the ground prematurely, but I suspect that had more to do with bugs that anything else, because two melons are waxing fat and happy, dangling from the top of the trellis.  I'm growing cantaloupes this way, too, and they will fall off the vine when they are ripe, but I actually like that, since my trellises are not too high. I always know when one is ripe without them busting when they hit the ground. Speaking of busting, Darling begged to carry the watermelon back to the house, then immediately dropped it as soon as it was in her hands. I love that girl so much. I couldn't help but laugh. It busted a little bit (you can see it in the picture), but it didn't affect the flavor one bit. :)

It was sooooo juicy. The juice just ran out everywhere when I cut into it. It dripped down little chins and turned little hands sticky and was such a mess to clean up. But a lovely mess, because it was a homegrown mess in every sense. We had such a good time eating it. I taught the kids how to spit out the seeds as they ate. Darling caught on immediately and became an expert seed spitter. Doodlebug had a bit more trouble and the seeds just sort of fell out her mouth (I picked all the seeds out of Pumpkin's melons before giving them to him). I never could get a good picture of them spitting the seeds, but I wish I had been able to. Oh well. I have some blurry ones for my own memories.

When I was a child, my grandparents lived out on some acreage, and they grew watermelons every summer. My aunt, uncle, and cousins would come down and Papaw would put all the melons on ice in preparations. In the afternoons we would gather on the deck and cut open the most enormous, juicy watermelons you've ever seen and pass the salt shakers around. I don't think any watermelons have ever tasted so good as those from my childhood. When we were all done there was a contest to see who could hurl the rind the furthest. I don't think I ever won, not once. I guess hurling watermelon rinds was just not my thing.

As you can see, we completely devoured our watermelon. The kids ate it like it was their last meal on earth. Pumpkin had an enormous pile of rinds in front of him, and he actually gnawed one rind until there was hardly anything left, then carried another rind around with him all over the yard. I guess he was saving it for later. We all felt extremely proud that we grew it ourselves. It makes me happy to think of what a lesson in patience and perseverance (not to mention botany!) this was for them. I hope they will cherish these memories as much as I do. I can't imagine a better way to spend an evening.