I have been growing vegetables since I was a boy. When I was about 17 I was the only one of five children living at home. My parents were ill and I took over the vegetable garden and I have had one ever since.
A vegetable garden in the beginning looks so promising and then after all little by little it grows nothing but vegetables, nothing, nothing but vegetables.
I grow tomatoes, spinach and melons, a pepper vine climbs my coconut tree. I have a home and kitchen of my own.
I've got my organic veg patch and fruit; we're very garden-obsessed, my husband and I. He designed a garden for me for Christmas, so beautiful! Alasdhair's very good at the proportion and ground work, and I come in and do the planting and the color scheme.
I had a ton of animals; I had a goat growing up, a bunch of rabbits, a vegetable garden.
The smell of manure, of sun on foliage, of evaporating water, rose to my head; two steps farther, and I could look down into the vegetable garden enclosed within its tall pale of reeds - rich chocolate earth studded emerald green, frothed with the white of cauliflowers, jeweled with the purple globes of eggplant and the scarlet wealth of tomatoes.
Each year the big garden grew smaller and Jane - who grew flowers by choice, not corn or stringbeans - worked at the vegetables more than I did. Each winter I dreamed crops, dreamed marvels of canning . . . and each summer I largely failed. Shamefaced, I planted no garden at all.
I get around nature. I have a vegetable garden, and I enjoy being outside. I do work quite a bit around the house.
Our vegetable garden is coming along well, with radishes and beans up, and we are less worried about revolution that we used to be.
The garden is my second profession. It's 22 hectares, which is a big garden. I really need it, going from the flower garden, the shrubs and the trees, the vegetable garden, all these things.
The pleasure of eating should be an extensive pleasure, not that of the mere gourmet. People who know the garden in which their vegetables have grown and know that the garden is healthy will remember the beauty of the growing plants, perhaps in the dewy first light of morning when gardens are at their best. Such a memory involves itself with the food and is one of the pleasures of eating. (pg. 326, The Pleasures of Eating)
My mom and dad both would grow vegetables. So, when I delivered my baby, we went there, and she would cook a lot, and we would eat all the vegetables from their garden.
When I pass a flowering zucchini plant in a garden, my heart skips a beat.
My son, Arzhel, is two, and he eats vegetables twice a day. We have a vegetable garden on our farm in the Southwest, and he gets two baskets, one over each arm, and says, 'Garden, Papa!' and then he eats what he picks.
We have a well and a garden. I crawl around in the mud and grow great vegetables.
When my mother was raising me, she moved us upstate to the Woodstock area. Our closest neighbor was a mile away. She planted all her own vegetables.
A tiny radish of passionate scarlet, tipped modestly in white.
Protein has been intensely over-represented on the plate. Now, the garden should be the main drag for main courses.
Gardening is one of my enduring, favourite, and most rewarding pastimes.
There's nothing I like more than picking fresh vegetables then putting them in the dinner you make that night.
Gardening is seen as a pastime that is almost like belonging to the Church of England - a sign of maturity and wisdom and right thinking.
I feel very guilty about not having a vegetable garden, but it is quite time-consuming.
I just planted the family vegetables yesterday. You name it, I grow it.
I'm a huge garden and landscape fanatic.
I support Alice Waters in her desire that there be a vegetable garden at the White House. I don't think they should rip up the Rose Garden, because that's something that I love. They should probably dig up another patch and grow some vegetables there.
