I guess this is out of the city limits but my family had a vegetable garden
out at Fort Snelling.  My parents worked for the Postal Service out there,
and we made weekly Saturday trips to weed the garden.  Afterwards we would
go to the DQ for ice cream.

We had corn and other vegetables.  My mother canned stewed tomatoes, beets,
cranberry relish, dill pickles (my personal favorites), apple butter, and
chunky cinnamon laden applesauce (we bought the apples at the Farmers
Market), to name a few.  I miss those days of sitting in the kitchen coring
apples and eating the peels.

Ahh...Now those are the days of a great childhood.  Now I'm hungry.

Pamela Taylor
(Whose can't go to lunch for another hour, in Tampa)

-----Original Message-----
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED]]On Behalf Of
Fredric Markus
Sent: Friday, August 16, 2002 10:15 AM
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Cc: Hillary Oppmann; Pat Kerrigan; Leslie Nitabach; Susie Palmer; Flo Golod
Subject: [Mpls] Community gardening grows more than vegetables and flowers.

We are arriving at harvest time in the community gardens around town and
this invites evaluations and thoughts about what happens next. The
farmers markets are going great guns and the State Fair will show us all
manner of horticultural and culinary horizons. There are less obvious
lessons to be noted having to do with community-building and I would
like to invite a look at a website I've put together that showcases a
few pictures I took along the way this year - not a lot but telling
quite the story.

Here's the URL: http://markusfredric.tripod.com/peacepark/

My thought is that our gardens - and community gardens generally - are
life-affirming statements. I'm old enough to remember the victory
gardens in World War II. Auth Edith and Uncle Maynard had a big garden
out behind the Indian Agency House grounds near the Fox Canal and Fort
Winnebago. I stayed with them in 1944-45 and worked oh so grudgingly at
age six weeding and picking string beans and the like. This was an adult
thing and I didn't catch on to the canning and preserving bit until the
late '40s when I was old enough to help my mother and father tend our
flowers and harvest our own garden produce.

Now I buy stuff from Hmong gardeners and see their kids in the thick of
it.
Here at the highrise, my British Guianan neighbors [of (British) Indian
extraction] explain to me that their country is a agricultural society
and show me how to do a better way to manage raised flower beds -
something my German immigrant forbears knew nothing about.

We have this basic stuff of life in common and I really like being able
to bring some pickled beets to share when it comes time for picnics in
our Peace Park and then having the chance to sample really tasty Somali
dishes.

Fred Markus Horn Terrace Ward Ten

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